


when you are young they assume you know nothing

by Samsam4short



Series: Ruekiverse [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Minor Character Death, Recreational Drug Use, School Dances, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Unreliable Narrator, Unsatisfying conclusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsam4short/pseuds/Samsam4short
Summary: The high school au no one asked for. Vanitas Masters is a Junior at Radiant Garden High School and fresh off the worst year of his life, he's got a half-assed plan to win his ex-boyfriend back, swerve his father's temper and maybe eat cheese fries with his two best friends.The new girl--she ruins everything.((Come for the hijinks, stay for the over abundance of teen romcom tropes))((Update Tuesdays))
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Vanitas/OC, Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Ruekiverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703443
Comments: 22
Kudos: 11





	1. don't leave I just need a wakeup call

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends and welcome to another (or maybe your first) Rueki fic. To my returning readers thank you for coming to read a project SO very different than anything I've ever written (aka no wars or graphic sex scenes, this one is mostly rated for the swears). To my first time readers, hello! This fic should be comprehensive whether you read all 1 million plus words of the Eternal Flame series or nothing of it. It's been a blast to write something that stokes the teen drama trash that I am, I've been a sucker for a good Kingdom Hearts high school au since the dawn of time.  
> Anyhow, enough on that, I'm posting the first 4 chapters today and then will update weekly on Tuesdays until the fic is done! Rep, if it's not clear, is Replica Riku. He is also not related to Riku, just figured I'd throw that out there.  
> Enjoy!

1\. don’t leave I just need a wakeup call  
_we didn’t know that we had it all  
but nobody warns you before the fall_

\--

There’s bubblegum and black magic in the air. Golden eyes focus on the only boy at the party drinking soda rather than beer. Said boy laughs, that is apparent in the body language that is visible through the glitter in the air.

Vanitas wants to put his mouth on those lips that part with racouchous beauty spilling through the party like champagne. 

“If you were any thirstier, they’d hook you up to an IV.” Beside Vanitas, Rep takes a hit of the roach he’s trying to smoke. Xion flops her head down onto the pool chair she sits in front of, blue eyes flicking up to Vanitas’, devil’s smile twisting her face.

“Hey Vani?” Xion asks, drawing out the pronunciation of a nickname like a schoolgirl singing a lullaby. 

“Mmmm.” Is Vanitas’ response, eyebrow quirked up, still entranced by the boy with the soda. A young woman with blue hair shoulders him delicately, a strapping young man with soft brown hair tosses an arm around the boy’s shoulders, Vanitas’ teeth curl over his lips. 

Aqua Sommers and Terra VanHorne will be away at University this time tomorrow. It’s a cold comfort, especially after the disaster that was sophomore year, but Vanitas clings to it like a crutch. 

“Why are we here again?” Xion asks in her singsongy voice, as she looks back down and picks runs into the tights she wears underneath her shorts. Unlike Vanitas, she does not have bruises flowering on the skin she picks apart to reveal. Even if she did, he’d know better to ask and so does she. He knows well enough by now the kind of powerlessness that comes with youth. He, Xion and Rep all do. 

“Because Rep’s so thirsty, you’d think he’d turn to dust.” Vanitas replies, though his eyes still fix to Ventus.

Ventus Golde. 

In the cluster that was sophomore year, maybe the worst of it was getting dumped by Ventus. Well maybe not, but that sort of pain is new and therefore smarts all the worse for its freshness. Pain, Vanitas can handle. It’s new things that hurt.

Rep’s eyes narrow into slits, he inhales on the roach harshly then looks away from the other two and up toward the midnight sky, away from where Namine White has her hand twisted through Riku Seeker’s. In the safety of Hearts Diner, Rep will swear at the top of his lungs that no one has ever hated anyone as much as he hates Riku Seeker. Clandestinely, Vanitas thinks that is only because Riku Seeker looks remarkably like Rep--and is a little taller, a little more muscular, a little more chiseled. But the sandbox love that Rep has turned into utter obsession with the blonde artist is not something that anyone can talk sense into Rep about. 

Vanitas knows, Vanitas tried--not hard, but he tried. 

“When she sees us here, she’ll come over and say hi. She’ll walk away from him to come say hi to me, she always does.” Rep insists, every syllable shouting ‘you’ll see’. Vanitas does not actually think they will see, not with the way Namine’s every heartbeat seems to hang on the words that leave Riku’s mouth. From this distance, Vanitas can't hear what Riku is saying, there was a time he and Rep would've made up a dialogue and laughed about how stupid it was. But that was before Namine started dating Riku, before Xion got sent off to some sort of camp to ‘cure’ her of her brain anomaly after she was caught kissing Aerith Gainsborough two summers ago. Before Rep’s bad attitude ended with him getting locked in closets or starved--and certainly long before Rep decided the only way to combat that was by having a worse attitude. Before Vanitas...

He glares down at the cast on his left arm. Rep and Xion know better than to try to sign it. And he knows better than to make a sound when he sneaks back through the egress window into his basement bedroom when he returns home from a party he doesn’t want to be at and wasn’t invited to in the first place. 

“Let me have a hit of that.” Vanitas makes a little motion with his hand and Rep, for as much of a colossal twat he can be, hands over the roach. It tastes like skunk and bad lettuce on his lips, he chokes and hands it back to Rep, who offers Xion a hit. Xion scrunches up her face and resumes picking at her stockings.

“Vexen’s gonna smell that on you.” She warns, because she knows well enough. Xion knows most everything. She knew this party was happening because she knows Roxas Golde well enough to hear about the details of a party his friend Sora throws in a house that makes Vanitas’ look like a shed, when his parents aren’t home. She knows how to ink by, to bleed into the sidelines until the very world itself forgets about her, because unlike Rep, she’s smart enough not to fight their foster father, Vexen Snow, every step of the way. Xion knows that if Rep is not smart, her adopted brother is going to get busted--again-- for coming home high and it’s going to be a lot harder shuttle Rep half of a dinner he’s not getting fed when she’s having to focus not only on work at the diner, but school as well. The only thing worse in this entire world, than drug use, are bad grades. At least according to their foster father.

“The old bastard has a nose of steel.” Rep grumbles under his breath but extinguishes the remnants of something Vanitas is pretty sure wasn’t worth smoking in the first place.

“Just jump in the pool.” Vanitas offers. Xion’s eyes flick up to him, she chews on an already shredded lower lip, a habit that isn’t half as pretty as movies paint it out to be.

“Maybe he could stay the night with you. Vexen thinks I work tonight.” Xion offers.

“Give it a break.” Rep slaps a hand over his eyes, mouth giving a whole lot less insight to emotions otherwise loathed. 

“Besides, Xehanort’s still on red freaking alert.” Vanitas mutters, a familiar bitter taste creeping into the dryness on his tongue. 

“Right, sorry.” Xion shakes her head. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We always do. No broken bones required.” The smirk that creeps onto Rep’s face is very intentional, Vanitas clocks him hard on the arm with his cast and while it smarts like a sonuvagun, it thoroughly shuts Rep up.

“Stop shit talking me, go win your girlfriend back.” Vanitas orders.

“You go win your boyfriend back.” Is Rep’s crinkle nosed counter.

“Yeah,” Vanitas scoffs, though the way the flickering flame of a tiki torch reflects off of Ventus’ hair sings of golden possibilities and shimmering, electric promises. “Maybe when his guard dogs get put down.”

In twenty four hours Aqua Sommers and Terra VanHorne will be at an Ivy League college. In a week, Vanitas, Rep and Xion will begin their Junior Year at Radiant Garden High School. In no time, the sting of the past--the too much, too hard, too loud, too angry, too difficult to deal with, God, I just wanna be happy-- will be a figment of a memory, because he’s meant to be with Ventus. There is no better explanation for how someone could taste so saccharine on Vanitas’ lips. 

There’s a rupture in the pretty scene of the picture perfect pop song that this party has become. Someone laughs too loud--Kairi Sinclair. Sleek auburn hair pulled up, she totes along some new bimbo. Vanitas barely pays her any mind, Kairi’s girlfriends all look the same. Kairi’s type is stupid model types, the prom queen can’t keep her hands away from ruffled dresses and pretty eyes. The only thing that is significant about this one is that Vanitas doesn’t know her. Radiant Garden is such a small town, he didn’t realize there was anyone he didn’t know here.

Then again, this girl could have faded into the background all his life and he’d never have noticed. She’s not Kairi’s type, she’s not particularly gorgeous. Nor modelesque, nor does she maintain the same dead in the eyes, hungry between the thighs look that Kairi typically likes her flings to have. Not that Vanitas looks or cares, but everything is a parade in the world of a prom queen. And this new thing that she presents to the entire party is short and incredibly pear shaped with a jaw like a razor blade and long blonde hair. She throws her head back laughing and puts her arms around Kairi.

“You’re so drunk!” The blonde announces. Kairi giggles, tucking her head into the blonde’s shoulder. 

“You’re not drunk enough.” Kairi counters. “Come on!” Kairi yanks her shorts down off of slim hips, shakes her butt and twirls around in lacy pink boyshorts. Vanitas makes a face like he’s gagging, Rep snorts.

“Aren’t you guys ready to leave?” Vanitas complains as Kairi yanks her shirt over her head. Her bra matches, the blonde laughs and shimmies out of her own shorts. 

“Who’s the new girl?” Rep asks, Vanitas is about to tell him to put it right back in his pants when he realizes he isn’t being asked.

“Her name’s Ruby? Rueki? She works at the Diner with me but we really haven’t worked together and she only started last week.” Xion trails off, chewing on fingernails bitten down to the quick. “I really didn’t peg her though as the type to be best friends with Kairi Sinclair. She kinda keeps to herself.” Vanitas supposes that’s why he doesn’t recognize her. Still, it’s not like Radiant Garden sees a whole flux of new students every year. This girl, while unremarkable is an oddity in that right.

“Bet Kairi came in on one of her shifts and decided that since she was new in town she’d be easy game.” Rep shrugs. Ruby-Rueki takes off her shirt. “Maybe she is easy game.” 

Ruby-Rueki’s black T-shirt falls into the pool, Kairi laughs hysterically and jumps in after it. She resurfaces, Sora laughs and cheers like the redhead is the single most impressive creature in the land. Even Ven is fixated on the show.

“Come in!” Kairi whines. 

“It looks cold!” Ruby-Rueki complains, leaning toward the pool.

“Don’t be chicken!” Kairi more begs than challenges. Vanitas almost thinks the blonde is going to go for it, but then she rolls her eyes. “It’s not cold! Come on, I just want you to have fun!” 

Something cracks very quickly on Ruby-Rueki’s face. She chews her lips and stretches high and that’s when Vanitas sees it. An angry red scar runs the length of her abdomen, screaming from ribcage to hipbone. The girl is so soft, so fair, so much the human embodiment of a marshmallow that the vicious line on her stomach just seems out of place, Vanitas wonders if maybe the one hit off that roach got him high enough to hallucinate.

But he doesn’t have much more time to ponder scar tissue. Ruby-Rueki scrunches up her face and jumps into the pool, following after Kairi with a splash. The second Ruby-Rueki reemerges, Vanitas realizes Ven is looking right at him, watching him watch Kairi’s latest conquest. Vanitas wants to go and drown himself in that pool.

“Okay, screw it, I’m going home.” Vanitas mutters, standing up.

“We should get heading home, too.” Xion insists. “Hearts isn’t open much longer, it’ll look weird if I’m out too much later.”

“Okay, just give it a couple minutes, Nam will say hi to me once the little pool party’s done, I know it.” Rep insists. All Vanits can offer Xion in the way of comfort is a strained, half sympathetic look. She’s busy picking more holes into her tights though, she’ll need new ones by the end of the evening at this rate. A wasted effort at friendship cast aside, Vanitas leaves without another word, out the gate to the pool, through a yard bigger than his entire house and out into a cobblestone road that reeks of pride and superiority. In his daydreams, Ven chases after him, swipes up his hand and demands to speak to him. The sheer thrill of the thought is enough.

Enough to get him by as he sneaks into his basement bedroom. Vanitas shines the light of his phone on toward his door as soon as his feet hit the ground. Still shut, if his father had come looking for him, the thing would be completely busted open.

With one good hand, he yanks the window closed as quietly as he can manage, then throws himself onto his mattress. 

In twenty four hours, Aqua Sommers and Terra VanHorne will be off at college. In a week, Junior year begins. In a year and three months, Vanitas will be eighteen. In two years, he’ll be off at college, but best of all in four more weeks he’ll get this cast off and the looks Ven sends his way won’t be tainted by discontent or disgust or absolutely worst of all--

Pity.


	2. violet, blue, green, red to keep me at arm's length won't work

2\. violet, blue, green, red to keep me at arm’s length won’t work  
_if you hold me without hurting me  
you’ll be the first who ever did_

\--

The morning of the first day of school comes in like fragments, pieces of a memory that doesn’t really belong to him. 

Xehanort, Vanitas’ father, is gone as usual before Vanitas drags himself up from the bedroom. Vanitas scorches a piece of toast and eats it dry. He’s out of red bull because he’s out of of money, the byproduct of doing odd jobs sporadically through the summer, and the lack of caffeine nearly short circuits his mind. He doesn’t allow himself enough time to get ready, doesn’t realize how much extra care a broken arm requires when he was on his own schedule all summer. He puts on a shirt inside out, he throws literally all of the school supplies Xehanort bought him into an old backpack and jets out the door, not realizing he forgot his phone until he’s skidding to a halt at the stop for the city bus. He barely makes it inside before the doors close, and wilts into a seat at the front of the bus, pissed off and exhausted at nothing and everything in general.

He pinches his eyes shut and slithers somewhere into the comfortable realm between sleep and wake. He wishes he were in his own bed right now, in these moments in between where everything is security blankets and warm bellies and dim lights.

The bus creaks and groans to a stop, Vanitas opens his eyes and staggers out onto the sidewalk in front of the school and immediately wants to retract his steps. 

It’s not like his own house is loaded with creature comforts but he has air conditioning. And the ability to turn off the fluorescents, throw headphones on and dial down the volume on the outside world. There’s something remarkably like a cage about institutionalized learning. 

Someone tugs on the back of his backpack, he reaches around, head telling him to fight first, when an arm is tossed over his shoulder. 

“I’ve got math first period.” Rep tells him from the other side of the chokehold. 

“That’s some seventh circle of hell bullshit there.” Is Vanitas’ drippingly sympathetic sentiment as he twists himself out from Rep’s grasp. Xion pulls the sleeves of a hoodie it’s too early in the school year to wear, down past her hands and meets Vanitas with a crinkle eyed smile. She would be excited, unlike he and Rep, Xion’s always gotten remarkably good grades. Not good enough for Vexen, but good enough to predict, even a year early that she’ll be the class Salutatorian. With school comes praise, comes affirmation, comes an outlet to exercise skill--at least for Xion. Vanitas contemplates his class schedule in his head and wonders how soon he’ll be able to get away with cutting class and which teacher will be most likely to accidentally mark him as present. 

“At least we’ve all got the same lunch this year.” Xion offers and at least is absolutely right. Freshman and sophomore year, Vanitas was on his own and while he is more than equipped to handle solidarity, those lunches spent at an empty table are what drew Ventus in his direction. He doubts repeating the circumstances that got them talking will win Ventus back. Golden eyes scan the front lawn of the school and while there are plenty of tired upperclassmen, shuffling with heads hung and just as many doe eyed freshman, there is no sign of Ventus.

Instead, another blond head comes shuffling by. Delicate fingers brush Rep’s arm in Vanitas’ peripheral and immediately Rep releases him, every nerve ending in his body standing at militant attention.

“It’s good to see you, Rep.” Namine White is staring up, very pointedly only at Rep, side bangs dipping low over her big, blue eyes. “Did you have a good summer?”

Vanitas doesn’t need to ask his friend if the blonde texted him at all this summer. He knows the answer is a despicable, devastating ‘no’. 

“Nothing special.” Rep says all off-handed and aloof. Vanitas casts a sideways glance at Xion, who smirks and rolls her eyes.

“We’ll see you at lunch.” Vanitas tells Rep, who has fully stopped listening to anything else in the world and is now obnoxiously focused on making himself look cooler in any way he possibly can.

As Vanitas and Xion head off, she steals a glance back toward her adoptive brother, turns forward and shakes her head.

“You know I don’t think she even knows she’s leading him on.” Xion admits.

“Of course she doesn’t, he’s just dumb enough to put the leash on all by himself.” Vanitas replies. He knows because there’s someone he’d put that very same leash on for, and he’s finally spotted him. Alongside Olette Lange, a blond head follows and while Ventus looks remarkably like his twin brother, Vanitas can tell them apart without issue. He knows that Ven’s face is softer, his lips are fuller, his hair is lighter, his eyes are more green than blue and thinking of those eyes twists Vanitas’ stomach up as memories come regurgitating. Vanitas remembers last year’s spring formal and the feeling of his fingertips as they brushed Ven’s lips. He remembers hearing the music blasting out of the gym, spilling into the hallway where Vanitas’ hips and lips bruised Ventus’. He remembers exactly what song was playing when they parted in the humidity of the early spring air drifting through a cracked door, remembers what Ven said to him, a whispered ‘your lip ring gets really hot on my mouth’. He remembers rocking that lip ring against Ventus’ lip just to get him to make noise. He remembers the physical reaction of a kiss seared into his memory and the burnt up, breathless, beautiful two months of dating to follow.

He remembers too, the way things fell apart, but prefers to save those for moments when he is down at his lowest and and needs ammunition to stay under. 

Against a locker next to Olette’s, Ventus speaks, Vantias eyes trace the mark of his dimples, when he talks with that type of animation, waving a hand. Olette giggles slipping hair behind her ear as she loads up her backpack into her locker. Ventus turns a little, the fluorescents cast a cherubic tint on him and Vanitas likes to imagine that those lights cast the same gaze on him when he realizes Ven is looking straight at him.

“Do something.” Xion whispers, elbowing his arm. Stupidly, Vanitas raises a hand in a tiny half wave, with no idea where else he could possibly start, could possibly begin with the way things ended, with the words that will never be able to be scrubbed free from his mind--and the words he will never be able to eat, much as he wants to.

Ven looks away and Vanitas thinks maybe he should’ve raised the casted hand. Maybe he would’ve gotten a pity wave. 

“Tough luck.” Xion offers, brow knitting together.

“Think he’s ever going to forgive me?” He asks, because if he trusts anyone’s insight, it’s Xion’s.

“Come on, you know I’m not a love expert.” She pats his shoulder and with that, takes off down the clustered hallways, leaving Vanitas to his own schedule and the promise of a creaky old desk in his first period. One frustrated hand peels his class schedule out of the pocket of his jeans to double check the room numbers. History-Mr. Eraqus, room 201.

Not math, but history with Eraqus qualifies Vanitas for his own circle of hell bullshit. 

\--

What a grand, monotonous rush, Vanitas thinks, to see the same faces he’s seen since kindergarten. There’s something achingly comforting about going through the motions of it all, leading all the way to drama class, a class he’s repeating solely because Radiant Garden High School allows students to repeat ‘art’ credits. Mr. Donald has a flare for the dramatic and if he’s being honest, Vanitas appreciates the outlet. He also appreciates that Xion has economics class right across the hall from him and is able to sit down on the edge of his table and chat with him before the hour starts.

It’s like this, that a shadow forms at the edge of Vanitas’ vision.

“Excuse me?” Distantly, he recognizes the voice. “Is someone sitting here?”

Sea green eyes meet his as Vanitas’ gaze snaps up, her lips are parted, colored with red lipstick and she tucks the curtain of her long blonde hair back behind her shoulder.

The girl from the party, Ruby-Rueki. He almost tells her she looks different with her clothes on. Almost, but he knows Xion will be upset with him for putting her in an uncomfortable situation with a new co-worker for no reason. So instead, Vanitas sweeps his hand out, dashing it over the table, knocking his backpack into the aforementioned seat. He tilts his head up, mouth pursing into a frown as he waits for the blonde to leave. Or maybe even cry, she looks soft enough.

Instead, she jerks the chair hard and fast, so hard that his backpack hits the floor and sits in the chair, putting two sneaker clad feet up on the table, like she’s making a statement. Ruby-Rueki crosses her arms to her chest and looks straight up at him, a dare in her eyes, a challenge in the set of her pointy jaw.

Oh, so he’s going to get into a fight on the first day of Junior year, that’s great.

“You know, I’m going to go to class. Rep and I will see you later.” Xion murmurs so low that Vanitas almost misses her voice, his head buzzing with the pulsating adrenaline rushing through his temples. Xion scuttles off the table and out of the classroom and Ruby-Rueki? She takes her feet off the table but throws her own bag up to replace them, taking an elbow to the table, propping her chin up with one hand and batting her eyes at him.

“Find somewhere else.” He tells her, she smiles this witch’s smile at him, the twinkle of venom in her eyes reminds him of bursting champagne bubbles. 

“That’s not really an option, I was just counting on you not being a jerk.” She announces. Confused, Vanitas looks around and realizes with his eyes narrowed, that the remaining tables are filled. The bell chimes, signaling the start of class. His own heart rate still feels like a volcano that has been too inactive for too long. But Mr. Donald comes up to the front of the class and so Vanitas swipes his bag out from beneath Ruby-Rueki’s feet and seethes at her, trying to decipher from the smug look on her face if she can feel the utter hatred looming off of him in waves.

She doesn’t even look at him again. Instead, she is--pretends to be cuz she can’t handle conflict, he can tell, he knows these things about soft faces--fixated on the first day lecture that Vanitas remembers from last year. Almost verbatim, he recalls the attendance policy, the projects they’ll have to work on--two monologues, a Shakesphere scene, a scene from a musical and a scene of their choice--whether or not this means they’ll have a guaranteed role in the school play--they won’t--and then how their partners will be decided.

“Now, I want you to look at the person sitting next to you.” Mr. Donald announces. Ruby-Rueki shoots a look in Vanitas’ direction, still looking pointedly unbothered. Vanitas knows this means that in some way he has gotten under her skin, he delights in this, but doesn’t meet her gaze. “This person will be your scene partner for the entirety of the semester.

Ruby-Rueki looks a little thrown, but otherwise, still so unbothered. Too unbothered. Vanitas shoots an incredulous, repulsed look up toward Mr. Donald. This is not how partners were decided last year and if they were, Vanitas would have gotten a whole lot more aggressive about kicking Ruby-Rueki out of his table. She could sit on the floor for all he gave a shit, and he almost says something, the hostility rises to the surface, bubbling up from beneath him. But then…

Then he remembers if he gets pissed, if he walks out of class, if he gets into a fight with a teacher, if he does anything that puts him under a negative light this early into the year…

He looks at the cast on his arm and then down at the ground, eyes narrowed into slits. 

“You’ll have the rest of the class to get to know your partner, tomorrow you’ll be presenting them to the class like show and tell. I want big energy for this presentation, we’re all gonna get to know each other really well by the end of the semester.” Mr. Donald says. This is nothing like class was last year. Vanitas hates new things.

Vanitas looks at his unbound hand and clenches it into a tight fist, unsatisfied until the smarting of his fingernails into his palm unravels his thoughts. Only then does he release his fist and he stares at the moon shaped marks on his palm with a sick sort of appreciation.

“Is this really what we’re doing?” Ruby-Rueki is leaning against her palm, body angled toward him. Vanitas hears the murmuring of chatter around him, hears it and barely hears the waves she’s coming in through. He makes an irritated, noncommittal sound and she rolls her eyes. “If we could, you know, not fail this class entirely, that would be pretty fly. I don’t particularly think I want to be your friend either, but here we are, it’s one class in one semester.”

Oh, so she’s a high and mighty brat. Vanitas scowls, leaning back in his chair, eyes finding the ceiling.

“Whatever, I’ll just drop the class.” He replies, though he has no idea what would be as easy of an ‘A’ as this class was. That was the whole point in sliding back in for a second semester of drama. It’s one of the few classes he was allowed to repeat, one of the few classes he knew he’d excel in, one of the few classes he knew he wouldn’t get hounded for failing. His breath starts to tighten like a noose around his throat.

“Omigod, you are so dramatic. You’ll drop the class cuz you don’t like the person you’re sitting next to.” She actually laughs at him, face bunching up, looking comparable to a pug. Then, her eyes brighten, this devious little smirk curls up onto her lips, like paper burning. “Are you Edward Cullen?” She mock whispers.

“What?” He sneers. 

“Are you a vampire? Does my blood just smell like really good to you, is that why you’re being difficult?” Ruby-Rueki clearly finds herself amusing. “Am I Bella Swan?”

“Go away.” He rolls his eyes at her. She presses her mouth into a line, neutral and unreadable. 

“Sure.” Is her reply. She pulls a brand new GummiPhone out of her pocket. The case is black glitter and Vanitas is certain he knows the type of pseudo grunge trash she is, feigning wit and mysticality. “One thing though, how the hell would you suggest we introduce each other tomorrow if we’re not even going to talk?”

“Use your brain.” He snarls. “Make something up.”

He hates the way she smiles like this is the most divine challenge she has been offered. This is supposed to feel like punishment. 

“Sounds fun.” Is all she says for the rest of the class period. Mr. Donald is busy answering emails or something and while the rest of the class has heads knit together, sharing exciting secrets or laughing loud, putting on some sort of show for everyone else, Vanitas puts his head down and pretends to sleep while Ruby-Rueki plays on her phone. With a minute left of the period, her eyes flick up to the clock. She pulls her backpack onto her lap, retrieves a pair of over the ear headphones, drapes them around her neck, zips up her bag and tosses it over her shoulders. “I’m Rueki, by the way. Rueki Elric.”

Vanitas doesn’t know if she expects a response. He doesn’t give her one, but she doesn’t wait around for one, instead, she’s out the door the second the bell rings, headphones pulled over her head, a ghost on the wind.

He’s half expecting the little annoyance to be making small talk with Rep and Xion outside the school, but instead the adopted siblings are stationed in their usual meeting spot, beneath a large tree, Xion fumbling through her messenger bag for something, Rep hitting a vape he’d be skinned for owning.

The cloud of blue raspberry smoke that invites him into their safety net is altogether unappealing, sickly sweet and too thick to cut through, even after several swipes of his hand.

“What are we doing?” He asks Rep and Xion when the smoke finally clears and his friends turn to him.

“You’re in a fun mood.” Rep tells him. Vanitas scoffs. “Nam and I have art class together, thanks for asking.” Of course Namine and Rep have art class together, it’s not a stretch to think that Namine, whose nose is always buried in a sketchbook, would be in an advanced drawing and painting class. Only Rep would think of such an occasion as a work of divine powers.

“And she’s letting you off the leash to hang out with us, what a saint.” Vanitas replies. Despite the conflict on his features, Rep chuckles and turns to look fully at Vanitas, taking a hit off of his vape.

“Well Hearts is the only place we can loiter for hours after ordering. And the only place we can afford anyway.” Rep offers. 

“And I really could go for some cheese fries.” Xion admits. 

Hearts isn’t a far walk from school. On a bad day, when the weather gets harsh and they can’t cut through the woods, it takes close to twenty minutes. But in the beaming sun of early September, when summer is unaware that it has been banished, they cut through green trees, leaping over a stream, coming out in the heart of downtown Radiant Garden.

Just down the street from the post office is a library and an ice cream shop, but nestled comfortably in between is a small, red brick building with ‘Hearts’ painted just above the door, the ‘a’ is an upside down heart. The way the paint peels off, the fact that the door is old and wooden and creeks as they enter abolishes any sort of nostalgic appeal. It’s not a cute diner, it’s not aesthetically pleasing, the owner is a loud man called Cid who barks a greeting at Xion with an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear. She waves shyly and tucks herself, Vanitas and Rep into a small corner booth that provides adequate entertainment--a view of the street so that they may watch passerby. A middle aged waitress greets them all but mostly Xion and they order cokes and cheese fries to split.

Pressed to the spotty glass, watching dust trickle through the light from the window, sipping through a paper straw, Vanitas feels more secure in this moment that he will for the rest of the day. He knows this and the fleeting melancholia of it all would be poetic if it wasn’t so damn depressing. 

The door to the back room comes roaring open, creaking even louder than the front door as a petite figure carries a tray on each hand and Vanitas nearly puts a fist to the table.

It’s not like he didn’t register that she worked here, but there’s something about how blissfully ignorant she presents herself that drives him insane as Rueki, with her hair pulled up and an apron around her waist, delivers milkshakes and mozzarella sticks to a young family. Vanitas’ mouth curls into a snarl, he narrows his eyes, he’s about to suggest leaving though he really doesn’t want to, when the front door creaks open. Rueki tucks empty trays beneath her arm as a group heads through the door.

“Hey girl!” Is Kairi’s excitable greeting, she twiddles painted pink fingers at Rueki, who offers a tired wave. There’s a whole slew of greetings as Kairi, Sora, Riku, Namine, Olette and--

Ventus

All head to a booth across the diner. Ventus offers Rueki this sort of unsure wave, the one that Vanitas knows means he either doesn’t know her well or doesn’t particularly like her either but is far too polite to tell her that she’s actually trash. But she waves back, she smiles and Ven smiles too and it’s a knife in his heart, a fist around his arteries demanding every bit of blood his body will ever produce and then some. Vanitas stands up so hard and fast that Xion nearly falls out of where she sits next to him in the booth. Rep’s eye flash, he leans over and stares down Namine who doesn’t cast a single glance his way.

“Lets go.” Rep murmurs.

“Ya think?” Vanitas rolls his eyes. Xion groans, throws some money on the table and takes off ahead of them out the door. Sometimes Vanitas thinks they should probably be a lot more grateful to Xion for simultaneously putting up with them and Vexen. Now, however, isn’t one of those moments that Vanitas has the clarity for gratitude. 

It’s more a moment that he stomps to the alley behind the shops and sinks down against a disaster that Rep spray painted months ago in an attempt to impress Namine with his ‘street art’. Vanitas sets his elbows on his knees, puts his good hand to his chin, then jerks the motion away altogether, putting the good fist into the wall behind him. And then, when nothing feels satisfying to hit, he toys with his lip ring, pushing it in and out with his tongue. Xehanort’s taken plenty from him, but when Vanitas’ own mother signed off on him getting his lip pierced, the argument died before it even began. Even now, after everything that went down this past summer, that’s an argument Xehanort at least leaves blessedly alone.

Rep procures a joint from his backpack, lights it, takes a hit off of it and then passes it to Vanitas, sinking to the ground opposite Vanitas. Xion shuffles back away from them, chewing her lip.

“I’m going to get yelled at if you stink like pot!” Xion snaps, face reddening. “You two are ridiculous.”

“We’ll go back to Hearts before we leave, I’ll smell so bad like greasy food, it’ll be fine.” Rep waves a hand. Xion rolls her eyes and crosses her arms to her chest.

“Please do not let this be the way Junior year goes. Our lives aren’t going to magically end in high school. You guys need to figure out how to talk to your...people or get over them.” Xion waves a hand and then shakes her head, like in the grand scheme of this all, neither Ventus or Namine matter. Vanitas rolls his eyes, Rep lifts an eyebrow, Vanitas takes another hit of the joint, then another and passes it back to Rep, who extinguishes it.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly.

“Yeah.” Vanitas grumbles. Xion doesn’t look particularly moved by the half assed apologies, but she still sinks to the ground beside them all the same. In fact, she lies across the ground, legs kicked between the boys, eyes on the sky. Without looking into her backpack, she rustles around in it, pulls out a ziplock bag and throws it straight at Vanitas chest. He makes a huffing noise and looks down at the bag as it falls to his lap.

A bag of Uno cards stares straight back at him. Vanitas smirks.

“You are the devil.”

Xion grins like one because she knows full well that she’s going to win.

And she does, hand after hand. Rep’s a dirty cheater, every time something rustles the cards he somehow ‘magically’ ends up with a Draw 4 card. But Vanitas more than makes up for it by attacking Rep and tag teaming him with Xion. Better Xion win fair and square then Rep’s filthy ass. It starts to get dark when Xion finally packs up the cards, eyes flicking up to the street lights which blink on simultaneously. 

Vanitas misses this moment before it even passes.

“Same thing tomorrow?” Rep more asks than says as they walk Vanitas to the bus stop.

“Sure, if you wanna get your ass handed to you.” Vanitas snorts before climbing onto the bus the second the doors open. It’s crowded as all hell, but he finds one of two open seats in the back and flops into it, desperately wishing he had his phone so he could listen to something on the ride home. Not that it’s particularly long, but if he closes his eyes now without the stimulation, he’s bound to fall asleep and miss his stop home.

The doors are just about to close when suddenly someone screams at the driver to stop. The driver opens the doors back up and why wouldn’t it be Rueki that throws herself through the door, hair piled on top of her head, a grease spot on her shirt, her eyes tired even in the dim, flickering light of the city bus. She thanks the driver, pays the faire and sneaks down the aisle, wide hips bumping in the tight knit spaces, until she filters all the way through the back and--

“Seriously?” She groans. Vanitas looks up and sees her staring right down at him.

“Stand.” Is his answer. She rolls her eyes and plops down next to him, warmth radiating off of her in nuclear waves.

“I just got done working, which meant standing on my feet, carrying shit all day. I want to sit.” Rueki informs him, inhaling sharply as her head falls back against the seat. 

“You smell like fast food.” He grumbles.

“You smell like weed, we have so much in common, douche bag.” She bats her lashes obnoxiously at him.

“Vanitas.” He finally corrects her. 

“Do you have a last name or are you like Cher?” She raises her eyebrows, he rolls his eyes.

“Masters.” He replies, she smirks.

“Well quit being a douche bag and I’ll stop calling you one.” She looks up at him, smug as can be then pulls her headphones over her ears and zones forward. Vanitas’ eyes flick down to her phone. She’s got angry, early 2000’s alt rock playing and Vanitas thinks it’s pathetic, the way the girl who twists herself into Kairi Sinclair’s arms, into a world made of glitter and gold dust without hesitation wants to play tourist in the world of disgruntlement and emotional torment. She’s the worst type of trash there is. 

But he takes a whiff of his shirt and curses. Damn Rep for blowing smoke straight at him, for offering him the joint in the first place. Damn…

Damn Ventus for looking him straight in the eye and not letting him live a teen movie moment, complete with the romantic redemption where they kiss after heated confrontation in the rain. Damn this last year. 

When the bus stops at Vanitas’ stop, Rueki gets up to move too, he shoots her a look and she flat out ignores him, striding out ahead of him and toward the apartment complex directly in front of the bus stop. Destiny Plaza, the most run down complex in town. She enters the building closest to the street and disappears not only from his sight, but from his mind.

A block away is a shabby ranch that hasn’t been loved or maintained for eleven years now. Vanitas’ father, a man who stopped responding to ‘dad’ a long time ago, and only acknowledges his first name, tried to sell it once. The realtor told him the foundation was rotted, Vanitas would find that achingly poetic if it wasn’t so pathetic. In the driveway, is a rusted out car that reeks like tobacco. There’s nothing Vanitas hates more than the smell of cigarette smoke, sometimes he wonders if that’s why his father keeps chiefing them. The kitchen light is on which means the old man is drinking--the fact that Xehanort is home means that he is drinking-- so Vanitas opts to sneak in the basement window.

The light to the basement flicks on the second Vanitas’ shoes hit the ground. His heart ventures up somewhere inside of his throat. 

“Where’ve you been?” There’s nothing directly venomous about the way Xehanort trips and stumbles over the words. But the old man is sitting on the bottom of the steps, and it’s like all the shadows in the room gather in the sunkenness of his face. He’s got the neck of a bottle of Vodka curled up in his fist. He’s changing it up from his usual Gin, tonight.

Quickly, Vanitas fumbles for something, anything.

“Xion’s got some weirdo that’s always checking her out at work, she asked me and Rep to sit in one of the booths so she didn’t feel so alone.” Little threads of truth weave together the fabric of the lie, Vanitas doesn’t believe that any semblance of feigning nobility will absolve him, but the truth will--

Vanitas’ eyes flick to his cast. He’s not going to back into the corner--mostly because he’s not stupid enough to believe that the monsters won’t get him if he cowers well enough, no in his weakness the monsters grow teeth. 

Xehanort, with his weathered skin and hollowed out eyes, rises from the edge of the stairs like some sort of ghoul. He takes these dangerously slow steps toward Vanitas and only stops to plant a hand on the wall beside Vanitas’ head. His breath reeks, the wet sting of alcohol fills his nostrils. He looks over Vanitas, scoffs so hard he spits and tears away. 

“You should stay out of other people’s business, son.” He pats Vanitas’ cheek, but it feels more like a slap, Vanitas recoils, turning into the wall. “Let the girl's brother handle that.” He orders. Vanitas makes a small, noncommittal noise. “Stop leaving your damn phone at home, do you think I pay for it for fun?” Xehanort makes a move to thrust Vanitas’ phone into the broken hand then laughs, this sickly amused little noise. Xehanort drops the phone to the ground, the screen cracks and the old man walks back up the stairs.

Either he’s too drunk to notice Vanitas reeks of weed or Rueki full on blew smoke up his ass. Regardless, he doesn’t chance a breath until the basement door slams shut.


	3. sixty miles from the last place I hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for clarity: Rueki's monologue is from Fleabag, Vanitas' is from Daredevil recited by Frank Castle aka the Punisher. Rueki's tattoo is linked to that character.

3\. sixty miles from the last place I hide  
_I bought me a truck in the middle of the night  
it’ll buy me a year if I play my cards right_

\--

The new girl got kicked out of her last school for sleeping with a teacher. The new girl is insanely riched and moved away from her parents, becoming legally emancipated after a petty dispute over a belly button piercing. The new girl sent naked pictures to a boy last year and he spread them around the school and that’s why she left her old school to come here just before her Senior year. The new girl’s parents kicked her out when they found out she was a lesbian. The new girl is an undercover cop assigned to take down the high school drug dealer.

The new girl has rumors swirling about her and she wears them elegantly, like a halo on her head. The only consistency maintained is that her name is Rueki Elric, she’s a Senior who matriculated from Twilight Town High School, and she is seventeen. 

Vanitas can confirm nothing of the rumors, even a few weeks into the semester with her as his drama class partner. This is mostly in part because the first assignment is a monologue--one in the beginning, one in the end, to compare the progress made--so there is no talking required between the two of them. The drama room is big enough to spread out in, and while Vanitas has no problem sticking to the confines of their table, Rueki typically situates herself in a corner between the bottom of the drama room stage and the sound system. Her messenger bag splayed across her lap, she’ll read silently, moving her lips, scrunching up her face, gripping her script between tight fingers. He wonders what monologue she chose for creative purposes only. He already knows her taste in music is trash, but he’ll be damned if he lets her talk him into doing Romeo and Juliet for their Shakespeare scene. He’s not that big of a cliche. 

And she’s not as big of a talker as he expected her to be. As September coasts to an end and the weather starts to cool, Vanitas realizes he has barely said a word to her since that bus ride home, nor has she to him. He sleeps on the bus ride to school and listens to music on the way home and on the off chance that he steals a glance her way, she’s either buried in her phone or a book, always with the big headphones on her head, never looking his way.

On a Tuesday at the end of September, Mr. Donald begins the class with ‘share your monologue with your partner, perform it for them and trade notes’. This is met with a residual groan from students who would rather spend time on their phones and treat this class as the proper screw off class that it is--Vanitas knows it, Mr. Donald must too. But then Mr. Donald offers something magical, a smirk plastering onto his pasty white face.

“Well you’ll have to spread out. So you can move into the dressing room or the auditorium if you’d like. Of course, we want these monologues to be a secret from everyone but your partners. So get creative.” And even Vanitas is excited about the idea of that.

He rises like the rest of the chattering class, even when Rueki pulls out her phone and busies herself with that.

“C’mon, I’ve got a good spot.” Vanitas says, with the insinuation of ‘let’s get there before anyone else tries to take it’. Rueki lifts an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, were we talking? I truly forgot to take my mind reader pills this morning.” She levels him straight to the ground like a bulldozer and the only thing he can think to do in response is glare at her. 

“We’re supposed to give notes.” He tells her.

“Do you want notes?” She asks. The answer is on his lips like an instinct, he doesn’t even try to think about it.

“Not from you.” He harps.

“Charming. Well I’ve done this monologue before, I know it’s good, I really don’t need you sitting there picking it apart cuz you don’t like the content.” She informs him.

“You don’t know what I like.” He tells her. “And I’ve seen what you listen to, you have garbage taste.”

“Cool, good talk.” She says, and he almost leaves it at that, but he sees Mr. Donald’s eyes on him and he tells himself that it’s just because he doesn’t want the hassle of dealing with Xehanort confronting him if this gets brought up in parent teacher conferences, that it’s got nothing to do with a quickening heart rate at the thought of how that confrontation will end. He can’t wait to get this damn cast off. 

“Just get up!” He demands, pulling at her arm. Finally, with an eye roll that shakes the constellations, Rueki rises and follows him, dragging her feet across the shallow carpet like she’s being paid to move at a snail's pace. Lucky for her, Vanitas thinks, the spot isn’t taken.

When the auditorium isn’t in use, the orchestra pit is barely lit, it’s dark, it’s not especially large, and it evokes memories of freshman year, before Xehanort told him he was shitty at playing the trombone and wasn’t wasting money--that they didn’t have-- on Vanitas being in band anymore, from when he and Rep would linger after practice and share secrets that only the dim light of an enclosed space was secure enough to keep. Vanitas would prop his feet on the trombone case, Rep would cradle his clarinet case, and there felt like there was something to hide in, something where nothing could rip him out of his own security, for the very first time. Vanitas curls up on the very same spot he remembers on the floor while Rueki looks around, contemplates, then lights up her phone flash light, takes a spot across from him and sets her phone on the floor.

“Gonna complain about how hard it is to see in the dark, granny?” He asks, because she is a Senior..right?

“No, I was just experimenting to see how much like a ghoul you looked in this lighting. It’s really spooky, you don’t need a Halloween costume next month, pinky promise.” She says, pulling her script from out of her messenger bag. 

“Right, when I need compliments from a human trash can, I’ll get back to you.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Oh the brutality.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you wanna go first or should I?” 

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” He spits it out like a challenge, pure, condensed venom. She doesn’t even look up. She clears her throat, her eyes flick back up. Abruptly, there is hell in them, scorching fire. He expects her to shout, but her words are barely above a whisper.

“Women are born with pain built in. It's our physical destiny. Period pains, sore boobs, childbirth, you know. We carry it within ourselves throughout our lives....” She trails off, holding her breath as though she’s waiting on some sort of sentiment, on some sort of something. Vanitas doesn’t realize that he too is waiting until she speaks again. “Men don't. They have to seek it out. They invent all these gods and demons and things just so they can feel guilty about things, which is something we also do very well on our own. And then they create wars, so they can feel things and touch each other, and when there aren't any wars they can play rugby.” She laughs, tone laced in equal parts mirth and mocking and he realizes yes, that’s exactly what had him waiting. It’s not that she’s good, it’s not that she’s intriguing, it’s just that she’s talking and looking at him like he’s the only creature in this universe. “And we have it all going on in here, inside. We have pain on a cycle for years and years and years and then, just when you feel you are making peace with it all, what happens? The menopause comes. The effing menopause comes and it is the most most wonderful effing thing in the world! And, yes, your entire pelvic floor crumbles and you get effing hot and no-one cares, but then you're free. No longer a slave, no longer a machine, with parts. You're just a person in business.” And she finishes by tucking both sides of hair behind her ears and folding her hands in her lap. 

As quickly as she gets in character, she shakes her hair back out, into her face like usual, over her shoulders and now she’s challenging him, leaning forward with her palms on the ground on either side of her. 

“You’ve already done that but you still have to look at the script?” Is his response. She rolls her eyes.

“I did it last year in drama class. I had a busy summer.” She replies. Sleeping with Kairi, he almost taunts. 

“I can’t believe Mr. Donald let you use ‘effing’.” Vanitas knew she wouldn’t get away with outright cursing, but still, ‘effing’ would’ve been pushing the boundaries if the school gave a shit.

“He seems cool, my teacher last year said the only thing I could get away with was ‘flipping’. That’s a real mood killer when I’m supposed to be disappointed in gender roles, meanwhile celebrating my way into the feminine neutrality that is menopause.” She heaves this big, exhausted sigh that rolls her shoulders. 

“I cut out all the cursing in mine.” He tells her as he fishes his monologue, a crumpled up piece of paper printed off in the computer lab, with black sharpie stricken through the expletives. 

“Does it work?” She raises her eyebrows. “Cuz I feel like I curse all the fucking time and it’s just not the same if I can’t. Sometimes that’s the descriptor, ‘fucking’.”

He doesn’t like that he catches himself pressing his lips tightly to keep from smirking. He knows what she is, could tell it by the pseudo grunge horse shit blasting through her headphones, through the way she carries herself like some teen movie stereotype. She’s the new girl and therefore she must be complex and mysterious, but she’s not. Vanitas knows nothing about her and apparently no one else cares to know a damn thing about her otherwise they wouldn't accept the taste test of all that she is and go out spreading conflicting rumors. 

He clears his throat, in the light of her cell phone, he reads.

“You know those, uh... those people? The ones I put down, the people I killed? I want you to know that I'd do it all again. This is a circus, all right? It's a charade, it's an act. It's lies about how crazy I am. I ain't crazy! I'm not crazy. Okay? I know what I did. I know who I am. And I do not need your help. I'm smack-dab in the middle of my right mind, and any scumbag, any... any lowlife, any maggot piece of trash that I put down, I did it... because I liked it! Man, I loved it! I'm sitting here, I'm... I'm just itching. I'm itching to do it again. And you think... What, you think you're gonna send me to a nuthouse? Some doctor, they're gonna get me to stop from doing what I want to do? Well, that ain't happening! Not on my watch! You people, you call me the Punisher, ain't that right? The big bad Punisher. Well, here I am! You want it, you got it! I am the Punisher! I'm right here! You want it, I'll give it to you. And anybody who came here today to hear me whine, to hear me beg? Get bent! Do you hear me? I'm guilty. Come on, please, Judge! I'm guilty, you hear me? I'm guilty! I'm guilty!” He’s roaring by the end and she’s leaning forward, but he doesn’t care, he gets right the hell in her face, spewing venom, screaming so loud he knows anyone else in the auditorium can hear him, even from outside the comfort of their hole. He likes to think the world shakes around him.

“You should be louder.” Rueki smirks at him. He can’t tell if she’s joking. “Like go hoarse, damn, put some props on stage and break shit. You’re mad, but if you’re going to be Frank Castle, I need to genuinely question whether or not you’re going to strangle me or I won’t accept the character choice.” She look excited, flat out elated, and while Vanitas agrees, he knows how to be angry, knows how to feel the injustice of never wanting to be the victim, the lunatic--the sad little boy whose mom left and dad can’t put down a bottle-- but Rueki’s...not wrong. This monologue is a calling to take off the shackles, to go stark raving mad. 

“What should I break?” He asks. She twists her mouth in contemplation, then her whole face lights up.

“Ooh, don’t break anything! But wear some of those plastic shackles like for Halloween decorations when you’re on stage, we’ll weather them a bit, and when you’re screaming that you're guilty, break the shackles. I feel like that’s very Frank Castle.” She decides and hot damn, that might actually be an idea. He likes the drama of visualizing it in his head, that plastic that looks so secure rupturing, a gasp or two from classmates, the deranged look he might get in his eyes when he considers that he is the one to fear, that he is the one in control, that there’s not a damn person in the class that won’t know not to tread where he walks once he’s finished with-- “Oh? Will that give you enough time for your cast to be off? Will that hurt your arm?” 

He levels her with a glare, cuz fuck her for asking. 

“Don’t worry about my arm.” He snarls at her, she blinks clearly taken aback, but bounces to recovery faster than he expects her to.

“Well regardless, I think if you’re comfortable fully losing your mind on stage, there’s no way not to ace it. Just like get angry...and seriously, break something. Fake chains, bottles, whatever. You’re cool with breaking things, right?” She asks and he just makes a ‘tch’, like she’s stupid for asking such a question. Once again, massive eye roll on her end. “Yo, I don’t know your life.” She tells him.

And he likes it that way, he really likes the shadows of anonymity and their physical manifestation in this pit. But maybe that’s why the words waiting on the tip of his tongue won’t go back beneath the surface.

“I blew out the windows on Terra VanHorne’s car last summer with a crowbar, so you tell me.” He hisses, she just watches him, like he’s an exotic animal kept in a cage, not inherently dangerous but rather curious. 

“Why?” She asks.

“Cuz I wanted to.” He spits, she shrugs.

“While I respect the impulse decision, I did this instead. Little less likely to get your ass sent to juvie.” She starts taking off her shoe and he almost tells her to put the damn thing back on, but she takes off her sock and brings her foot up right next to the light of her phone.

‘One batch, two batch, penny and dime’ is on her foot. With the way she addressed his monologue, he should’ve guessed that she was a fan of the Punisher, but it is a little uncanny, the connection of her tattoo to his monologue. 

“Your parents let you get a tattoo?” He asks, although she could be eighteen, he realizes he doesn’t know, she is a grade ahead of him. “Or are you eighteen?”

She laughs, but it’s soft, this tiny little exhale.

“I’m seventeen, but the parents aren’t a problem.” She says that with a funny little air of finality that Vanitas doesn’t understand. “Why Terra VanHorne? He seemed nice at the party.” Ahh the party, where he saw her and apparently she saw him, somewhere, through the cotton candy web of Kairi Sinclair.

“He’s an asshole.” Vanitas clarifies. 

“Did he not like you dating Ventus Golde?” She asks and Vanitas’ eyes flash as he looks at her. “Dude, you’re not the only person I talk to. And Ven’s always looking at you super weird. So I asked. Plus I wanted to know if you were a general dick or if you really just wanted to suck my blood.” 

Vanitas might hate Rueki Elric and her nosey ass. 

“That’s not your business.” But Vanitas lives for any chance to shit talk Aqua Sommers and Terra VanHorne. “But yeah. He had a lot to say about Ven ‘stooping’ to my level.” Vanitas rolls his eyes.

“Well that blows if Ven actually listened to him, but to be honest, you could probably do a lot better. I mean Ven’s not even the cuter of the twins. Have you tried dating Roxas? That might be a delightful way to piss Ven off, if you’re looking.” Rueki offers and Vanitas just blinks at her, nose wrinkled. 

“Roxas?” Is all Vanitas blurts. “He’s not...cuter than…” He cannot even believe he is having this conversation, but he does feel a deep urge to jump to Ven’s defense.

“He so is. His cheekbones are sharper and he’s just a little bit nihilistic which does things for me, let me tell you.” Rueki says and damn, Vanitas really cannot believe he is having this conversation.

“Well why don’t you go date him and spare me the oversharing?” He rolls his eyes and she giggles. There’s nothing downright menacing in it and he thinks that she thinks they might be playing. Like they're friends or something. Disgusting.

“Because I would absolutely not date Roxas. That boy is angry at nothing that has ever happened to him, and I’m really sorry, but I need someone who’s been in the trenches at least once.” She explains, only convincing him further: she’s a damn tourist in the world of agony and thinks it’s a fun little visit.

“Like Kairi Sinclair?” He teases. She raises an eyebrow, mulls it over and then laughs.

“Omigod, no. Like don’t get it twisted, I would crawl to her, have you seen Kairi? She is the single most attractive thing that… Nevermind. I’m not her type. I think my abundant lack of tits is off putting to her.” She gestures to her chest and Vanitas colors from hairline to neck.

“Do they inject shamelessness into the water in Twilight Town?” He accuses, looking away from her.

“They actually remove our embarrassment gland at birth, but good guess.” She nods. What an asshole but confirmation that she really is a seventeen year old Senior from Twilight Town. “Regardless, there are much cuter boys or girls than Ven.” She tries. Vanitas just rolls her eyes. She wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t in a million years, but the fact of the matter is that Xion and Rep don’t either and if he’s purging pent up thoughts onto her, he’s doing it thoroughly. He is going to douse her in every miserable thought he’s ever had and she can worry about the weight of carrying all that has ever gone wrong in--

No. He’s not having this conversation with her, he’s not having it at all.

“Tch, whatever.” Is his response. Her brow furrows. “And I don’t need your help weathering Halloween props.” 

“Okay fine, I’ll just go fuck myself.” And with that, Rueki picks her phone and messenger bag up, scoops up her script and extinguishes the light. It’s pitch black in the pit when Rueki leaves, and that is just how Vanitas likes it. 

So when the final bell rings and he trudges to the bus, though he sees Rueki, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Even better, she doesn’t dare speak to him, but rather sits as far away from him as she can manage. He catches her looking at her script, then closing her eyes, then mouthing something or other and there’s a smug sense of satisfaction, knowing his words took life beneath her skin. 

They get to their stop and she's off the bus, disappearing into the apartment building just as he exits, but he doesn’t think about her through the walk home. She’s entirely wiped from his mind when he gets home and sees the rust bucket in the driveway. Xehanort’s being out of work this early is not inherently...wrong.

The front door creaks open, and in the low afternoon lighting in the kitchen, Vanitas watches dust filter in, swirling around where Xehanort is parked at the kitchen table, a bottle of whisky without even the excuse of a glass, wrapped in his hand. 

“You weren’t in your third period today.” Xehanort has never been anything but to the point. Golden eyes that match Vanitas are trained down to a sticky spot on the kitchen table and with every cell in his body, Vanitas wills himself not to back out the front door. He’s not a child, he tells himself. He’s not afraid, he tells himself. 

“Yes I was.” Vanitas counters, squaring off his shoulders. His growth spurt last spring made him taller than the old man, and especially when he’s sitting at the table, half drunk already, Vanitas knows that he is more intimidating than his father.

But logic matters very little when Xehanort’s narrowed gaze finds him.

“Do I look stupid to you, boy?” Xehanort demands, and when Vanitas becomes ‘boy’, it’s like the afternoon light is switched off, like the shadows that clung to the edges of the room and the sharpness of Xehanort’s features have stretched, swelled and expanded, morphing around the entirety of the home. Xehanort stands up, slowly, in a way that makes Vanitas think his bones might creak and groan, but when Vanitas’ backpack touches the door, Xehanort looks impossibly large. “Get.” Xehanort pounds a fist to the table, which whines in protest. ‘Get’ means get your ass over here, but Vanitas’ legs feel glued to the ground, his body is made of lead. “Now.”

“I was in class, Mr. Ansem’s like a thousand, he must be going senile and forgot to count me.” Vanitas’ voice cracks, his body shrinks, he ages in reverse, he slinks against the door but can’t make himself small enough, can’t disappear into the crack beneath the door. 

“Now.” Xehanort repeats, and any semblance of choice is ripped straight away because of how tiny Vanitas has made himself. His legs drag him, like a corpse, like a zombie, across the linoleum floor until he’s standing right in front of Xehanort. “Does your brain not work?” 

“I didn’t cut class!” Vanitas isn’t under the illusion it’ll help. But he’s not prepared when Xehanort snatchs him by the back of the hair, whips him around and presses him into the refrigerator. 

“Should’ve left you when your mother did. She had the right idea, she knew what you’d amount to.” Xehanort’s voice is a hiss in his ear, a chill reverberates down Vanitas’ spine, but that ice is melted the second a fire bursts inside of him.

“Right, it was me that she left.” Vanitas snarls, tone drenched in sarcasm.

Everything happens so quickly that he doesn’t register his face smashing into the handle of the freezer door until he’s on the ground, on his back, with the old man hovering over him. The pain pulsates, puncturing in ripples across the skin of his face, stemming from the socket of his eye. 

The old man rears his leg back, but adrenaline quickens Vanitas’ senses, he scuttles back, watching the foot slam down where his rib cage would’ve been. 

“What a big mouth you have on you.” Xehanort accuses as Vanitas backs himself into the kitchen counter and uses it to painstakingly hoist himself to his feet. “Where’s that big mouth now?”

“Eat. Shit.” It helps not a damn thing, especially when the bottle of whisky comes hurtling at him, but Vanitas takes off out the front door and down the sidewalk until he hits the ground, knees of his pants splitting against the sidewalk. At least now he doesn’t feel half as tiny. 

His face throbs, his heart is a hand grenade in his chest, his mind is bursting at the seams and for the life of him, he has no idea how the hell he’s supposed to go back home. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s dashed to Rep and Xion’s and snuck in the window, staying the night on the floor of Rep’s room until alcohol had obscured Xehanort’s memories. 

But--

But Xehanort can go straight to hell for bringing up his mom. Vanitas’ fist balls, scraping knuckles across the sidewalk. 

Something warm brushes his shoulder and Vanitas straight up hits the round, palms splaying across the sidewalk. Golden eyes flick up to meet green.

“The hell do you want?” He doesn’t give a quarter of a damn about the way his jeans are ruined or how much worse he knows his face looks. What he cares about is that this _bitch_ has up and taken it upon herself to butt into business that isn’t--

“Are you okay?” Rueki gets on her knees on the sidewalk next to him, ashing a cigarette on the ground. Vanitas’ nose wrinkles, he hates the smell but he hates her more. 

“Piss off.” Vanitas growls. She rolls her eyes. “You reek, smoke the whole pack?”

“Your face looks like hell.” She tells him with pursed lips.

“You’re seventeen, how did you get cigarettes?” He sneers. 

“Because I’m the only teenager to ever get cigarettes, dude, can’t you just be straight with me, are you okay?” She makes a move for his face, he flat out slaps her hand away, she makes a move like she’s going to slap him back, but he flinches and she freezes. “Did you do this to yourself?”

“Yeah, cuz I’m that big of an idiot, I beat myself up.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well you’re giving me serious Fight Club vibes, weirder things have happened…” She tries smiling a little but he treats this gift without welcome and her face falls. 

“You don’t know me.” He tells her.

“I know you have trash taste in boys and a bad attitude and I feel personally called out by that , but you’ve got a black eye and I have frozen peas right upstairs.” She juts a thumb up toward the apartment complex they are just outside of. 

He levels her with a death glare, shoves her away by the shoulders and climbs to his feet, teeth curled up over his lips.

“Stop asking questions about me.” He demands of her, turning away, crossing his arms to his chest. She scoffs, shoves herself up and only the fact that she’s straight up stomping her feet alerts him when she’s gone. He doesn’t turn back to look toward her over her shoulders, but suddenly something ice cold clocks him on the head. “The f--”

He turns and sees a bag of frozen peas on the ground. Rueki glares at him from a second story window, flashes him her middle finger then slams the window closed.


	4. maybe the way that I'm living is killing me

4\. maybe the way that I’m living is killing me  
 _and if I wasn’t so fucked up  
I think I’d fuck you all the time_

\--

Vanitas gets his rubric back for his monologue with a big, fat ‘A’ on it. ‘Great job’, Mr. Donald has written in the comments, ‘the broken chains really sold it!’ 

Rueki smirks at the paper on the table between them, Vanitas almost tells her to go straight to hell, just for the sport of it.

“Told you.” She sing-songs.

“Get bent.” He offers. 

“Keep flirting with me like that and Ven’s never gonna dance with you this weekend.” She props her chin up on her hand, elbow bent on their table. Vanitas levels her, completely demolishes her with a glare that says ‘immediately, shut up’. Or at least he likes to think that he does, even though she’s being typically difficult. 

“I’m not going to a stupid homecoming dance.” He tells her flatly, straight up, though he imagines she’s the very type to go. 

“No, of course not, it would go utterly against this very angry persona you’ve crafted for yourself, heaven forbid we break a bad stereotype.” She teases, though there’s nothing crafted about his anger. He’d happily put her face into the desk to express that to her. 

“Why would I pay money for dress clothes and a ticket to hang out with people I don’t like in the first place?” He asks. She seems to mull that one over.

“Because nothing that happens at high school dances is real, so it’s fun to indulge in.” She offers. He gawks at her for a moment before she speaks again. “I’m also a pretty good dancer, so while I’m right there with you about the dressing up and the ticket prices, I think it’ll be fun.”

She’s a pretty good dancer. She lives in the apartments down the block, she works at the diner, she’s a Senior but is probably only a couple of months older than him. Vanitas can tally up the things he knows about Rueki on one hand. Her rubric gets set down on the desk, she offers Mr. Donald a polite look then fixes her attention back on Vanitas.

“Have you given up on Ventus, then?” She asks and hell, this girl cannot take a hint.

“We’re not friends.” He tells her, good fist curling up around the rubric.

“I just think if you’re gonna try to make up for bashing his friend’s car and going apeshit on him last year, you should try for a sweeping romantic gesture. Showing up at the dance and trying to win him back would qualify.” She says. He opens his mouth to snap at her, but ever so smugly, like she’s been waiting for this very second to play this card, she halts him. “I didn’t have to ask that about you by the way, Ven volunteered that freely.” 

Vanitas skin prickles with cold, he rolls his eyes.

“Great, you’re best friends with him, you can waste his time with your shitty opinions.” He tells her, she rolls her eyes and her shoulders in tandem.

“That was advice, from someone who also has terrible taste. I was trying to be _nice_.” She says the word as though it is some type of demented crutch she can use as an excuse for being a general annoyance.

“Since we’re not friends, I’ll let you know now, if I want your advice, I’ll ask for it. But I’m not ever going to want it, so let’s just save you the trouble of opening your mouth again.” He hisses at her, her eyebrows shoot up into her hair.

“Okay, look, benefit of the doubt aside, you’re an actual dick and I’m just trying to make this class period, where we actually are supposed to interact with each other, not suck. So could you not?” She cards the hand that had propped up her chin through her hair. He sneers at her, and she rolls her eyes just in time for the bell to ring. “Cool, well you owe me frozen peas then.”

“I didn’t ask for them.” He snaps, though he still feels the reverberation of the bruise that is just beginning to turn green on his eye. It makes him look hollowed out, ghoulish, and the damn peas did help with the swelling, but it’s not like it’s not familiar pain, and familiar pain he can get through well enough without her help.

“But you didn’t return them.” She replies and then takes off like she always does when she’s working, he’s discovered. Those big headphones are visible as she cuts through the crowd even when she’s not. Xion intercepts Vanitas just outside of the classroom. 

“You don’t work today, right?” Vanitas asks. Xion adjusts the straps of her backpack, face screwing up.

“No, thank goodness. Can you imagine, the night of the Homecoming game.” Xion shakes her head. 

“Great.” A wicked little smirk curls up and settles into Vanitas’ lips, Xion chews her lips. “We should go to Hearts, get some cheese fries.”

“Vani, my job.” She reminds him. “Some things are sacred.” Like her time away from Vexen, he knows. 

“I just want cheese fries, Xion.” Like a switch is flipped in him, and that foreign little grin makes a home on his face. Xion knows better, she knows much better, but she and Rep follow Vanitas into town, into Hearts, where Rueki is already working on taking an order from a table near their usual. Satisfaction is taking a seat at the booth in the corner and having the waitress completely break all attempts at professionalism. 

“You’re a dick.” Rueki tells Vanitas with a pressed lips and narrowed eyes.

“You give shitty customer service.” Vanitas counters.

“Vani, come on.” Xion hisses beneath her breath, eyes flashing.

“I’ll just get a new job if it means I have to be civil with you.” Rueki says in an odd, mocking sort of voice.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Vanitas asks.

“When you were going to drop class just because you didn’t want to sit next me.” Rueki sets a hand on her hip, like the very display should be obvious. 

“Don’t write your own material.” Vanitas offers as advice.

“When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.” Once again, Rueki treats his words like ammunition, locked and loaded. “Are you seriously just at my job to antagonize me, because I’ll tell my boss you tried to grab my ass.” 

Vanitas colors from hairline to neck, Rep and Xion exchange equally confused glances and Rueki just stares at them all, waiting without the illusion of patience.

“Look, if you’re gonna be a nosey pain in my ass, then the least you could do is...the least you could freaking do is make sure that he doesn’t...make sure that…” Vanitas looks around at a diner that is nearly empty, then drops his voice to a whisper. “Ventus...doesn’t...dance with anyone else.”

“What the hell?” Rep balks and to Vanitas’ shock, both he and Rueki shoot a glare Rep’s way. Rueki places her hands on the table and takes a step closer to Vanitas, then drops herself down to her elbows so that they’re eye to eye. 

“I’m not going to police your boyfriend.” She tells him. “Without getting my damned peas.”

“Fine!” Vanitas smacks a hand on the table. “I’ll get you peas!”

“Cool!” Rueki shouts, like it’s really not cool.

“Great!” Vanitas roars in the very same tone. Rueki goes to stalk away when Xion clears her throat.

“Could we please get some cheese fries and some cokes?” Xion pipes up, leaning over from where she’s wedged between Vanitas and the window. Rueki turns around, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“Sure!” Rueki winks then all but skips back into the kitchen. She’s gone for several minutes before anyone speaks.

“So are we gonna talk about you and the new girl?” Rep mumbles. Xion cracks a smirk and Vanitas rolls his eyes.

“She’s a nosey asshole. Had all kinds of trash to talk like people want to hear her, so if she’s going to run her mouth, she might as well do it usefully.” Vanitas settles, which doesn’t seem to particularly satisfy Rep or Xion.

“I can’t believe you told her about Ventus.” Xion admits.

“She’s been asking around about me. Like a psycho.” Vanitas replies.

“She must be nuts if she’s asking about you.” Rep makes a face like he’s gagging, Vanitas rolls his eyes but smirks all the same. 

The door to the kitchen swings open, the booth goes quiet and Rueki sets down the sodas, telling only Xion that the cheese fries will be up in a minute. When she disappears back into the kitchen, Vanitas stirs the ice around in his cup with the straw, chewing his lips. 

“She told me I should do something stupid at the dance, like that would change Ven’s mind.” Vanitas scoffs.

“So instead you want her to babysit Ven?” Xion raises her eyebrows.

“I’m a lot more concerned about the peas, to be honest.” Rep admits. Vanitas answers by making a noncommittal ‘tch’. “So you’re really not going?”

“Dances are stupid.” Because after last year’s spring formal, why would he want to settle for some shitty dance where the boy he likes doesn’t stop glaring at him? “Besides, it’s not like Nort’ll give me the money for this.” 

“I could pick up a shift tomorrow morning if you wanna go, I’ll make enough to buy your ticket, easily.” Xion offers, patting his hand, and while Vanitas is painstakingly appreciative, that really wasn’t what he was going for.

“It’s fine, you guys are still going to the after party at Namine’s, right?” Vanitas asks.

“Of course.” Rep scoffs, like that’s a question so stupid he shouldn’t even be bothered with it. 

“Then I’ll just meet you there.” Vanitas waves a hand. Rueki brings the cheese fries and by the grace of all that’s good, Xion pulls out the Uno deck and the conversation becomes a cycle of ‘where are all the Draw 4’s coming from, you asshole?’.

When they get up to leave, Xion pays, but Vanitas goes to fish around the bottom of his backpack, pulling out the last bit of money from his summer jobs and throwing it on the table. 

“You do know she’s super rich, right?” Rep asks as they walk out the door.

“I doubt she’d be working at Hearts if she was rich.” Xion wrinkles her nose. “At least not as much as she does, Rueki picks up just about every shift she can get.”

“That’s just what I heard’s all.” Rep shrugs. “That she’s super rich but her mom got pissed at her for bleaching her hair so she moved out here, she probably doesn’t need your money.”

“She lives at Destiny Plaza apartments, she’s definitely not rich.” Vanitas replies. 

“Well I mean, you owe her peas, so I guess you’re the running expert.” Rep smirks. Vanitas punches him in the arm, but the thing about Rep is he punches back. Vanitas would like to believe he’s above chasing his friends through town, chucking crumpled up homework assignments from the bottom of his backpack at his friend.

But he absolutely is not.

\--

Namine White’s house is nice. Like old money nice. Not like Sora’s with the big, fake palm trees in the backyard and the lavish pool, but the expensive artwork on the walls and the engraving in the kitchen cabinets and the staircase whispers pricey, rather than screams it. 

Vanitas wiggles his lip piercing between his teeth as he looks around, holding his breath in a world that doesn’t feel like electric bubblegum, but rather like sparkling jewels. In a leather jacket, T-shirt and jeans, he’s above and beyond the most under dressed person at the party. Olette Lange and Pence Davenport sneak past him, Olette in a glittering beige dress, Pence in a suit and tie and Vanitas finds that it’s that much easier like this, to disappear into the woodwork. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, the leather of his jacket pressed to a wall as he looks down to see if Rep or Xion responded to his ‘here, where are you’ message. They have not, and the shrill of someone’s laughter makes it hard to concentrate as the smell of cigarettes and weed punctures his senses. He takes a step toward the kitchen, looking around for Rep’s telltale head of silver hair. Instead, he catches Riku, pressing a giggling Namine toward a half open door--maybe a bedroom? Vanitas wonders if Rep is still even here if Namine is so blatantly unavailable, but someone would’ve texted Vanitas if they weren’t here, right? Past the kitchen is a den, something lit cozily, decorated with antique furniture that looks like it’ll crumble if too much weight is put into it. This doesn’t deter Hayner Veldare from putting all of his weight and then some, into the couch. He’s clearly on someone, one hand grips the back of the couch, he grunts and whispers something that Vanitas can’t and doesn’t want to make out. Vanitas takes a step back, to head out, when the person beneath Hayner laughs.

And then his heart stills.

“Ventus.” He doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud until Hayner snaps up, fury in his eyes in the yellow light of the room, but then his face loses color entirely.

“Shit, I didn’t know you guys were back together.” Hayner sputters when abruptly, Ventus sits up. His shirt is gone, his tie is still around his neck, his face is bright red, whether in embarrassment or anger, Vanitas doesn’t know. But the look in Ventus’ eyes does not contain even the slightest ounce of guilt.

“We’re not.” Ventus just says, and Vanitas’ legs start to work again, like they did when Xehanort demanded he come over so that Vanitas’ face be put into the handle of the refrigerator. In the distant land that his mind has wandered to in a desperate attempt not to process, Vanitas finds it funny--hahahaha--that his body responds to physical and emotional pain all the same. He backs straight the hell out of the den and takes off into a sprint. Someone grabs his arm, Vanitas whips around, fist raised, not realizing it is the casted arm until he does a double take on his captor. Rueki’s hair is curled, she wears black lipstick instead of red, her dress is burgundy lace and wraps the contours of her body to its cut at her knees. 

He hates her, he hates her, he hates her!

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him!” Vanitas spits straight in her face, Rueki flinches, the once bemused smile falling off her face like rain slides off a window. 

“Who was it?” She asks in a low voice and Vanitas knocks his head back, a dry, disgusted laugh puncturing his lips.

“Hayner, that shithead Hayner Veldare!” Vanitas doesn’t care if he’s making a scene, doesn’t look around, doesn’t search for the safety of Rep or Xion, doesn’t see anything other than the very constricting tunnel vision that is the memory of Ven. Ven pressed between his body and a locker, Ven slipping through his fingers, Ven with his shirt off beneath Hayner Veldare--

Rueki’s mouth opens, he wants to clamp his hand over it because he doesn’t think he can handle the grotesque sound of her voice. Instead, she bites her lip, looks around, steals a bottle of something off of the kitchen counter, and slides her hand down into his good one.

“Come on.” She yanks at his hand.

“I’m not going back there!” Vanitas snaps, anxiety turning his heartbeat into a drum circle. 

“No.” She agrees. She yanks at his hand again and he lets his legs move, contemplating that maybe he can move the stabbing in his heart and the bleeding in his brain behind if he just gets far enough away. She leads him out the back door, down through the yard and toward a smaller ‘house’.

“Where are we?” He asks, numbly, wanting something, anything, to empty out the contents of his soul and fill it up with artifice.

“Boat house.” Is her answer. Vanitas looks around and does notice the lake not far from here, but he’s struggling to put two and two together. She pulls a pin out of her hair and starts wiggling it into the lock. “You know what you’re doing?” He asks not because he cares, but because he wants to hear nonsense, would rather his brain be filled with the unimportant rumors that this girl is a professional thief or something equally as absurd. 

“Yeah.” And as if to display this, she twists the nob and the door opens up, it’s dark inside but Rueki pulls her phone from the front of her dress and lights up the flash light, nodding her head inward. Vanitas shuts the door behind him as Rueki takes a seat on the floor by a window and pats the spot next to her. He just follows, and emptily takes a seat beside her, his arms and legs are heavy and ache like the flu, his gut is knotted, filled with every negative emotion his body can think to process, his face is-- his face is wet, he turns away from Rueki, drawing his knees to his chest, setting his cheek on them. He hears the sound of a champagne bottle popping, she nudges him with her elbow. 

“I’m not sharing that with you.” He snarls. 

“It’s pretty good stuff.” She offers. “Really bubbly, not too sweet.”

“What are you, some kinda damn connoisseur?” He mutters. In his peripheral vision, he watches her set the bottle down between their feet and she leans over, squeezing his shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” She asks.

“No.” He says flatly, so she recoils her hand and he immediately misses the warmth. 

“I didn’t know.” Rueki finally admits and Vanitas turns to watch her worry her lip between her teeth. “They talked a little at the dance, but to be honest, it didn’t seem like anything was going on between them.”

“Whatever.” Vanitas hisses, because he has no damn clue if he believes her and to be frank, whether or not he does, doesn’t really matter. Even if Rueki straight up kidnapped Ventus and commandeered his attention at the dance to avoid letting him around others, no difference was made. Ventus let him slip away, Ventus discarded him like they never shared glorious, sunlit months together before Vanitas--

“Why the hell are we here?” Vanitas hisses and in the low light, watches Rueki blink away confusion.

“Cuz heartbreak sucks and I figured you’d wanna be away from everyone else.” She offers.

“Why are you here with me, we’re not friends, I don’t like you.” Vanitas hisses and Rueki bites back a smirk, something that makes him question her sanity only slightly. 

“I’m not at this school to make friends, dude.” She just tells him evenly. “And to be truthful, I’ve wanted someone to steal me champagne and let me bawl my eyes out before, so basically if you want to, have at it. I’m just the new girl, I’m not gonna think any less of you.” 

“I don’t want to know how you think I’m supposed to feel about this, I want to know why the hell you’re doing this.” He snaps, smacking his good hand into the ground. “The damn peas, you always trying to talk at me, why?”

“Why any of it?” She asks, raising her eyebrows. He doesn’t answer her, just makes a noise in frustration, so she takes a drink directly from the bottle, and just to be difficult, he does too. “Because you’re not going to let me in, so I don’t have to worry about keeping you distant.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” He blinks, she shrugs.

“It means I didn’t move here to talk about my life and share in all that it amounts to, with anyone. I like the anonymity, I’m more comfortable with distance, and you are aggressive in keeping people, especially me, at a distance. I don’t ever have to get any closer to you than this. That’s what I want out of this year, that’s what I want from this school.” She explains, but he doesn’t know what the hell to make out of that, even if he tried. She is right, though. He is going to keep her at an arm’s length, exactly where she belongs. His mind flickers back to Ventus, beneath Hayner, like some sort of tragic, shattered record. An arm’s length is where everyone belongs.

“I don’t want some stupid pep talk.” He warns her, she drinks, he does too, looking at the rim of the bottle. Her lipstick doesn’t rub off.

“I don’t particularly want to give you one. Being sad just sucks. I can’t fix it.” She laments the honesty of the whole thing in a language that Vanitas finally understands. 

“No shit.” He takes another drink. He utterly disagrees with her, the champagne is harsh, borderline sour and certainly not sweet enough. “Can you turn your damn phone off?” He asks and she at least extinguishes the light so he doesn’t feel half as much of an idiot, letting the tears fall, training his breath like he’s so very used to, so no one can tell that he’s crying. 

The next morning he rings the doorbell that he hopes against all hope, is hers, drops a bag of peas and books it back home.


	5. you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn, I have more than two hits on this fic, guys I'm so flattered.  
> Notes for this chapter: the scene Rueki and Vanitas do is from a musical called Next to Normal, I love that musical and am not taking criticism on it at the moment.  
> Notes in general: I'm not sure if I mentioned this in the story or not??? If I didn't already I do at some point but this little fic takes place in Radiant Garden which I fancy as a small suburban town with a little downtown area dividing the overpriced 'slum' area from the even more overpriced, how the hell does anyone afford to live here, mansion-esque homes. Kind of like my hometown if I'm being honest. The gang attends Radiant Garden High School, but our leading lady, Rueki, just matriculated from Twilight Town where she attended Twilight Town High School. We got real creative with the names here, friends.

5\. you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better  
_you’re scared to win, scared to lose  
I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose_

Two days before Halloween, Vanitas’ cast comes off.

It’s a Thursday afternoon just after school lets out. Xehanort takes him to have it removed and has the damn audacity to make a comment about how a Vanitas needs to take it easy when he wrestles with his friends. Like if he paints the truth just so, then so it shall be. The throwaway tone the old man uses sets Vanitas’ blood to a boil. His fists clench and unclench inside of the car on the way home and he keeps his cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window to stop his mouth from going off. 

The next day in Drama class Rueki taps his hand like she’s some sort of child, delighting in a new toy and he jerks said hand away on principle, ignoring the way that the little bit of warmth and the little bit of pressure reminds him of the sensations he’s missing--he’s jerking off tonight with that hand, just because he can and hasn’t been able to in months. 

“Piss off.” He tells her and she just smirks this satisfied little smirk as he thinks over her inclination toward the arms length he keeps her at. This works, he decides, because it’s nice to have--not a punching bag, because he is not his father and never will be--someone to antagonize. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you off the hook with such an easy scene for our musical.” She teases.

‘Off the hook’ is a joke that only she finds funny. Vanitas recalls earlier in the week when, Mr. Donald assigned the musical assignment. Simply put, the groups of students would choose a song from a musical to lip sync to and create some basic choreography around it. The challenge would be conveying emotion through the lipsyncing while being able to follow and respond to a partner’s choreography. The problem was that no two students could choose the same scene, so when ‘The Point of No Return’, ‘Phantom of the Opera’, and ‘All I Ask Of You’ from ‘Phantom of the Opera’ were immediately taken by the kids in the same boat as Vanitas, the ones who were taking this class for the easy ‘A’, Vanitas ran out of ideas promptly. It’s not that he didn’t expect Rueki to have some avant garde bullshit up her sleeve, but realistically, almost all hope was abandoned when ‘For Good’ and ‘What Is This Feeling’ from ‘Wicked’ and ‘Take Me Or Leave Me’ and ‘Tango Maureen’ from ‘Rent’ were taken. However, when Mr. Donald got to their table, without hesitation, Rueki announced they’d be performing ‘Hey #3/Perfect For You (Reprise)’ from ‘Next To Normal’.

“Bunch of basics.” She muttered under her breath. “Won’t have any idea what hit them.”

To be frank, Vanitas had no idea what to expect until Rueki dragged him to the orchestra pit, assured him that the choreography would be easy because she’d sing for the male character and she could lead him no problem, and played the song for him.

Now, staring down at his freshly uncasted hand on the table, Vanitas didn’t think it would make a quarter of a difference if he had a cast on or not, he was still the weak link in their choreography--not that he’d ever fathom voicing that aloud. 

“Yeah, I was holding back all of my dancing capabilities because of one hand.” Vanitas rolls his eyes and Rueki’s smirk grows larger. Once more she thinks they’re playing, but this time he doesn’t particularly disagree. If she wants to be treated like shoe scum, he’s happy to oblige. 

“I know you’re a sneaky little turd.” Rueki tells him. “Come on.” This time, she tugs at his sleeve rather than poke his hand, and rises, leading the way to the orchestra pit which she always lights with her phone. Vanitas puts their song on, on his phone. He’s logged onto Rueki’s Gummi Music account--which she gave him the info for since Xehanort would flat out lose his mind if Vanitas wasted all of their data streaming music--because it doesn’t require data if he's logged in, and he starts the song up.

The piano trickles in, Rueki stands in the middle of the pit, he backs up to the edge of it as the piano rises into a crescendo that he won’t tell her he likes because of the way it mimicked the beat of his heart when he kissed Ventus at the dance last year.

Ventus holds hands with Hayner so freely, they don’t worry about what Aqua Sommers or Terra VanHorne will say, probably because what they will offer is praise. Vanitas is sick with jealousy every single day that week. 

As she choreographed, he takes three long steps toward her on the last three beats before the singing begins.

‘Hey’ she mouths, taking a large step toward him. He steps back, on key, and it all feels right.

‘Hey’ he mouths, looking away.

‘You look like a star, a vision in blue’ she mouths, reaching for one hand. He lets her take it because that’s what her choreography allows, and it isn’t lost on him that it is the once casted hand she touches. Her hand is so warm, it’s like her skin is on fire.

‘Oh, I do?’ He mouths, finally looking her way.

‘And you are’ she makes a move for both of his hands and he pulls them away, taking a second step back. She takes one forward. ‘Hey, you came’ it makes her smirk, the innuendo of the line and he thinks it’s stupid and she’s stupid, but at least he gets to cross his arms to his chest.

‘Well, I said that I might’ he mouths.

‘I thought we were through, me and you’ she mouths, so he drops his arms.

‘Not tonight.’ He mouths.

‘Will your mom be okay?’

‘Well, she might be someday.’

‘But for now, it’s all fine?’

‘She’s still on my mind’

‘Can you leave it behind? Stay, let’s see this thing through’ She mouths

‘Hey, hey, am I crazy? I might end up crazy?’ He mouths, taking the final step back and throwing his hands into the air. 

‘I’ll be there for you’ she mouths.

‘You say that right here, but then give it a year. Or ten years, or a life, I could end up your wife, sitting staring at walls, throwing shit down the stairs, freaking out at the store, running nude down the street, bleeding out in the bath.’ He finishes with fake slashes across his wrists with thumb nails, and she snatches his hands on cue, leading him the three steps back toward the middle.

‘Perfect for you,’ she mouths as she wraps arms around him and leads him in a very simple waltz. All he has to do is trust the movement of her feet, and he doesn’t necessarily, he watches the ground, watches her feet until she forces him closer by the small of his back, her eyes hellishly intense on his. He forgets how she does that, turns off everything that is Rueki and acts like she’s acting just for him, a player in his own personal show. ‘I will be perfect for you, so you could go crazy, or I could go crazy, it’s true. Sometimes life is insane, but crazy I know I can do. Cuz’ crazy is perfect and fucked up is perfect, so I could be perfect’

‘Perfect…’ He mouths.

‘Perfect for you’ they mouth together as the music ends.

“Stop watching your feet.” She demands.

“I don’t know what you’re doing if I don’t.” He grumbles.

“You do, you’re just not trusting me.” She tells him, flatly. 

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes and wiggles away from her. “Are you going to Namine’s tomorrow night?”

“Are you asking?” She sets a hand on her hip.

“No.” But yes.

“Are you going to be at Namine’s tomorrow?” She asks and he makes that ‘tch’ sound which she no longer makes a face at. And it's all easy and all fun and games because this is just familiar and neither he nor Rueki have to feel a thing.

“Yeah, probably. Rep’s gonna wanna go, and I like Halloween.” Vanitas says, though he means he loves Halloween, loves every bit of it into his bones. The scary movies, the costumes, the fact that everything gets spooky names. He loves haunted houses and carving the guts out of a pumpkin and destroying his teeth with Laffy Taffy. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” She admits, but doesn’t elaborate. “I’m pretty sure Ven’s gonna be there, though.” She says, he glares at her and crosses both arms to his chest, toying with his lip ring with his tongue for something to keep every square inch of his body distracted.

“I didn’t ask that.” He says.

“Why were you asking about me, then?” She smirks. “Did you wanna hang out with me?” She trills and his eyes narrow into slits.

“Immediately, no.” He tells her. “Rep’s just weirdly obsessed with Namine and Xion’s working, and I just figured if he got too annoying about her, then I might want someone to drink with in the pool house.”

She smiles like this is the grandest complement of all. 

“Stop making that face.” He snaps.

“I’m just really flattered is all.” She cackles.

“You’re just obnoxious is all.” He counters. Her smile fades into this smirk, but she doesn’t have the courtesy to look ashamed.

“Let’s rehearse again, take it from the top, hm?”

\--

He doesn’t pointedly seek out Rueki, but when Rep drags him outside to smoke a joint in their cheap, accidently matching grim reaper costumes, and talks loads about how Namine went and got him a drink which means she must want to get away from Riku and get with him, Vanitas notices the boat house.

“How late is Xion working tonight?” Vanitas asks, not because he plans to go to Hearts to possibly spy on the girl that got him champagne drunk on Homecoming night. 

“I think she and the new girl are closing the place.” Rep says offhandedly, which means he’s none the wiser and will not bother Vanitas with stupid questions about a girl he bought frozen peas for. Vanitas just makes a humming noise and takes a hit of the joint that Rep passes him. 

The lights are off when Vanitas gets home, but he doesn’t chance going through the front door. Like always, he slips through his bedroom window, being as careful as possible to make very little noise when he hits the ground. 

He gets as far as peeling the grim reaper costume over his head before a nasty voice hisses low in his ear and the putrid stench of alcohol fills the air. 

“Who were you off smoking pot with?” 

The temperature of Vanitas’ blood dips into subzero territory as a hand made of leathery skin and punctuating bones curls around the back of his neck. 

“You’re drunk out of your mind, I’ve been here all night.” In the seventeen years he’s been alive, that excuse has worked once, but in the pitch black, when he can’t see his attacker--abuser, father-- Vanitas grasps at any straws he can manage.

“Really now?” Xehanort laughs this cool, menacing laugh into the hollow of Vanitas’ ear, shooting chills from head to toe. “Why don’t we go take a look, then?” Xehanort yanks the neck of Vanitas’ shirt so hard it stretches as it suffocates him and it’s all he can do to grasp at it and stagger back as Xehanort drags him up the stairs. Vanitas makes a move to fight against it, because if he can make it back out the window, back down the street, if he gives it a few hours, Xehanort will pass out and forget this and in the morning he won’t be--

His head smacks into the door frame as they get up the final stair and Xehanort literally throws him into the kitchen.

It doesn’t matter how big he gets, he turns microscopic when Xehanort turns on the dim, yellow light of the kitchen.

“Your eyes are bright red.” Xehanort says each syllable like it makes pleasure climb rungs of his spine, like he grows to life, becomes this wild beast and outgrows his bones in the realization.

“It’s called an allergy attack.” Vanitas tries, but his arms are already starting to tingle. His body aches with bruises that have faded away, his bones tremble from injuries long healed, his heart beats so loud he doesn’t hear what Xehanort says next, only knows that he’s seized up once again and instead of making for the refrigerator, Xehanort settles for putting him face first into the counter top. 

The first blow, Vanitas is smart and puts his cheek to. His skull rattles, his skin throbs, but that’s nothing on the feeling of getting jolted back so hard that oxygen cuts off and then thrown once more into the counter. His nose cracks and it’s not the first time, but every time Vanitas is overwhelmed by the pain, by the way he feels like he’s under water, how everything throbs and spreads into his eyes, down his lips, like his entire face is a single, united nerve ending. Xehanort doesn’t stop there and each time his face is brought down, he watches bright red blood stain a porous countertop. He gasps and gurgles and when finally, Xehanort releases him, he hits the ground and is met with a socked foot to the ribs. He heaves as his head crashes into the cupboard door.

And then Xehanort leaves him. Leaves him altogether to head for the freezer. Vanitas hears the telltale sound of a bottle opening and forces himself to his feet, despite the way breath evades him and his heart hammers like a drum in his ears. 

He can’t even chance a glance at Xehanort, he leaps right toward the front door and throws himself out of it, unsatisfied until he hears the door latch behind him and his ass hits the concrete of the porch. 

Blood spills into his hand, he feels like he’s breathing under water, gasping through his mouth reminds him of the aching shortness of breath that comes with this type of anxiety. Xehanort doesn’t follow him out of the house, never follows him out of the house, but there’s something hellishly sinister in the stinking ash tray on the front porch.

“Yo.” Vanitas’ head snaps up. The reeking scent of smoke rolls off of the figure illuminated only by the street lights. Rueki’s hair is up, she stills wears her Hearts Diner shirt, and in the low light of the evening, she looks remarkably older. 

“What?” Vanitas snaps, though much like he feels, it sounds like he’s under water. He knows she can see the blood that spills down his chin, onto his shirt. He knows she can by the way her face falls.

“You wanna come over?” She asks.

“Why in the hell would I want to do that?” He demands, she takes a drag from her cigarette and shrugs.

“I dunno, some secret admirer dropped me off peas. I was gonna make them with dinner.” She replies.

“You can cook?” He asks.

“Not worth a damn. But they pair nicely with hot pockets.” She offers and despite himself, he laughs this little ‘tch’ sound that he feels in the ache of his nose. “I mean, unless you wanna go back in there.” She nods his head toward the house. His immediate answer is no, not in a million years does he want to go back inside, but he contemplates whether or not life will be worse if he returns to his bedroom or not. He steals a glance inside. Xehanort’s silhouette is slouched toward the table, Vanitas looks back at Rueki with the cigarette in her hand and her heart cautiously extended and he decides that maybe if he says yes, she’ll stop bothering him for fear of getting too close. 

Instead, when he gets closer, she gasps and clutches his chin in her hand, pulling him down to her level.

“Your nose is straight up broken.” She assess like he didn’t already realize that.

“Well I can still smell, can you put that thing out?” He grumbles. She throws the cigarette on the ground and stomps her foot on it. 

“Who did this?” She asks.

“Big foot.” He answers and she cranes her neck, standing on her toes, looking toward his window. “Quit!” He demands and she glares at him.

“Is it that old bastard in there?” She asks.

“Leave it alone.” He demands.

“Is that your dad? Did he do that to you?” She presses.

“I said cut it out!” He snaps.

“Does your mom just not give a damn?” She barks.

“She’s dead.” He hisses, her face colors. 

“I’m…” She almost apologizes but stops in her tracks and if he’s being honest with himself, he’s glad she did. “Let me in there, I’ll pretend I’m a social worker or something.” 

“Right, what good’s that going to do?” He sneers.

“Well someone should say something!” She insists.

“Who, you?” He all but laughs. “You only talk to me because I don’t give a shit about you, so stop pretending you do about me.” 

Her mouth clamps shut.

“Has anyone ever said something about…” She can’t find the words, just as he expects, he makes a noncommittal noise and her face breaks. “Did he break your arm? And give you that black eye?”

“I really don’t want to have this talk with you!” He shouts, then flinches, looking toward the house. Xehanort hasn’t moved from his spot on the table, but when he turns back to Rueki, it looks like her heart is bleeding all over him. “It’s not gonna make anything better if you go in there and start trouble with him.” 

She shakes her head, eyes flicking to the sky, like the injustice of it all is simply too much for her to handle. Then she starts away from him, taking a few steps before turning her head and jerking it in the direction of her place.

“Come on, then.” She urges. He wipes his nose on his sleeve and follows her to the door he dropped peas off at only a few weeks ago. At least he did have the right door.

“Your parents aren’t gonna have something to say about you bringing stray boys home?” He murmurs.

“I live alone.” She just says, flatly as she unlocks the door. 

“Is it because you bleached your hair and your mom got mad so you ran away?” He asks. She turns to him, eyebrows inching toward her hairline. “Just something I’ve heard.” He says and she smiles this tiny, insufferable smile.

“Have you been asking about me, Vanitas Masters?” Oh hell, she’s gone and become a whole new level of insufferable.

“People are just weird and obsessed with you, I don’t get it, I just think you’re annoying, it’s probably cuz this is such a small town, the whole place combusts when a new face arrives.” Vanitas says, getting the words out as quickly as possible. She just grins, devious as hell.

“It’s okay if you wanna be my best friend, I understand. It’s because of my sparkling personality, right?” Her eyes flick to his and he groans.

“If I say yes, will it scare you away from me?” He asks.

“Oooh, you do listen.” She bats her eyes at him and pushes the door open. Vanitas doesn’t have an idea what he expected of Rueki’s apartment, but somehow what he sees when she turns on the lights is still not what he expects. 

It’s a cramped studio with a full size bed and no bed frame jammed in one corner of the place. An old, leather sofa is against another wall, there’s a tiny cubby that Vanitas assumes is a bathroom, in one corner, and in the other is a kitchen just big enough for a refrigerator, a microwave, a stove and an oven. No dishwasher, no kitchen table, nothing ritzy about the place that insinuates even a trace of wealth. In fact, it’s very much the opposite. 

“Sit wherever you want, I’ll get some warm water and more frozen peas.” She waves a hand and scuttles into the kitchen, and if he’s being completely real, he just watches her pull the bag of peas out of the freezer and turn on the sink, letting the water warm as she rustles through the kitchen for a towel. When finally the water is steaming, she holds the towel under it until it is soaked, rings it out and makes her way over to him. He clears his throat, looks at the ground and all but leaps to the couch, not, under any circumstance wanting her to get the wrong idea. He gets the distinct feeling she’s exactly the type to jump to conclusions.

By the grace of something, she sits wordlessly beside him and starts cleaning up his face. The water is warm and her touch is especially gentle and the whole process makes his skin crawl.

“You know, I can do that.” He grumbles. She doesn’t reply, just keeps at it, wiping blood off of his chin, neck and lips before working to his nose, touch becoming feather light. When finally she is satisfied, she sets the rag down on a nearby coffee table, the same table she set the frozen peas on, which she now procures and hands to him.

“Are you hungry?” She asks. He is absolutely ravenous, but almost feels guilty saying something when he looks around at how shoddy the place is. That and he doesn’t want her to get the impression that he feels at home here. The place is just downright depressing. “We had an order of chicken tenders and onion rings that no one came to pick up, so I brought them home, I’m tossing them in the oven regardless, because I’m hungry, but if you want something else I could attempt to make it for you.” She offers.

“No, that’s fine.” He says, quickly. She gets off the couch, starts the oven up with a beep, the enters that bedroom area of the apartment. From within a small dresser, she procures lounge clothes, and oh hell, she’s not--

“Bathroom’s over there if you wanna change, these should fit you.” She drops down what looks like a pair of sweat pants and a baggy shirt on the couch beside him. “And if you want, the bed’s all yours, I’ve slept on this couch plenty of times growing up, we’re old friends.”

He stares dumbly up at her, mouth falling open. 

“You didn’t need to…” He chokes.

“I know, but I’d really like you to not get blood all over my bed, and if we soak that in the sink,” she points at his shirt. “We should be able to get the blood out.”

“I’m not your friend.” He mutters, and she just looks at him like truly, she was expecting more in the realm of insults. “Isn’t it gonna be weird if I sleep in your bed?”

“I mean, it would only be weird if I wasn’t planning to suck your dick later.” She says and he stands right up, deciding then and there to leave. “Dude, I’m screwing with you!” She halts him by tugging at his sleeve. “It’s a bed, seriously, if you wanna leave, leave, I’d just feel like actual trash if I didn’t give you a place to stay that wasn’t with _him_.” Vanitas tries not to feel the swell of endearance at the way she’s referring to Xehanort, he really does. 

“Why do you live alone?” He demands, because he wants to change the subject and forget the feeling.

“Why are you asking, do you want to know more about me?” There she goes again, batting her lashes, effectively shutting him up. He glares at her, snatches the clothes up off the couch and stomps into the bathroom. The clothes smell faintly of rainfall.

He hates that he notices her sheets do too.


	6. Goddamn, man child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post Cuz final exams but also now they're done thank fuck. And thank you all of you friends reading and commenting, you guys are the shit

6\. Goddamn, man child  
 _you’re fun and you’re wild  
but you don’t know the half of the shit that you put me through_

The first Monday in November, Vanitas saves a seat on the bus. Rueki rush on in and he jerks his head toward the empty seat. She meets his eyes, cocks her head to the side, but stumbles over, altogether, looking spent and exhausted. Mostly because she spent the weekend working doubles but also, because they are both blatantly aware that she hasn’t sat next to him since the first day of school.

She settles down beside him, her hips spill over into his seat. She’s bundled in a poofy jacket and a scarf, he wonders if she dresses like that to hide the fact that she’s so tiny in the middle, in her shoulders, in her arms or if truly she's just a baby in the cold. 

After spending a weekend at her place, cooking for himself when she wasn’t home, filling his backpack with his clothes when he knew Xehanort went out for groceries, he feels the strange aftershocks of a vulnerability overload. Which is rather odd, because he barely said two words to her when she was home.

Mostly they ate screw ups or unclaimed orders from the Diner and watched scary movies together. Rueki’s a baby and a daredevil in equal parts and hides beneath the blankets while suggesting terrifying movies. 

And Vanitas?

His face still hurts, his nose is never going to look the same, but the swelling isn’t so bad and neither are frozen peas with every meal.

“What’d your dad say when you stopped home this morning?” She asks in a low voice that he’s unspokenly thankful for. 

“He was leaving as I was coming, I don’t know that he even knew I was gone.” Vanitas admits. Rueki chews on her lips. With the exception of that night from the dance, he hasn’t seen her in the black lipstick, but the red she wears seems to stay in place just as well for how often she chews on her lips.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Stop asking me stupid questions in public.” He growls. She rolls her eyes and pulls out a long, corded pair of earbuds, plugs them into her phone and extends on bud to Vanitas. He looks down at them like she’s offering him drugs in public, she just huffs.

“You can pick the music.” She offers.

“Right, cuz you’ve got something good on here.” He scoffs, but takes her phone from her hands and puts a bud in his ear. 

Oh, he hates that right away he finds music he likes. What an asshole.

She smirks a little, puts an elbow into his arm and whispers.

“Toldja so.” She murmurs.

“Screw you.” He answers, biting back a smile.

“Put your number in my phone.” She says and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “We’re partners in drama class, and like...you know, if you want a place to crash. No questions asked.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to break your own rule.” He grumbles.

“Yeah? Cuz you’re going to text me your secrets at all hours of the night? Cuz you suddenly wanna be besties?” She counters. What an asshole, she’s right.

Disgruntled, he plugs his number into her phone and they don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the ride. 

\--

They ace their musical project, mostly because Rueki can actually dance and he lets her lead to his own chagrin. The fact that Rueki was ballsy enough to swap the genders of their role made a difference too. The second their rubric comes back, her eyes are alight. 

“So I was thinking for our scene--” She begins and he flicks her forehead.

“That’s what you get for thinking.” He teases. She levels him with a glare.

“Oh, kiddo, your life would be so difficult if people knew you shacked up with me all weekend, do you really wanna mess with me?” She teases.

“My life’s already difficult, do you need more people calling you a slut?” He counters. Her face screws up a little, he wonders if he hit a soft spot, but as quickly as the frustration appeared on her face, it is replaced by a smirk.

“I eat rumors for breakfast, so do your worst.” 

Oh, he likes the challenge way too much. Alarms start sounding in his head, it was one weekend, they spent one weekend together, she worked most of it--she got him drunk on champagne, she let him wear her clothes, her hair smells like rain just like her sheets and her clothes-- they’re not even friends, so he demands of himself, pull back. Shrink up, recoil, get away from her as far and fast as possible.

He can’t trust this feeling in his chest, not when it feels so much like it felt to have Ventus’ hips against his, their lips touching just beside the lockers. 

“Well whatever you wanna do, let’s do.” He says quickly. She raises her eyebrows.

“You’re being terribly agreeable.” She says.

“Well your suggestions get us good grades and I’m only in this class for the easy ‘A’, so whatever you want, it doesn't matter. I don’t care.” He grumbles, tilting his body away from her.

“Um, alright, cool. I will shoot you a link to the script.” She nods.

“Sure, whatever.” 

She doesn’t work that afternoon, but he doesn’t take the bus with her, in fact he finds Rep and they get high as a kite and laugh about how damn dumb Riku looks in the pictures he and Namine posted on her Kingstagram. This, Vanitas reminds himself, is a feeling that he can trust. With Rep, he’s safe from the explosive nonsense that surrounds that sinking feeling Rueki gives him. 

When he gets home, Xehanort is passed out drunk and the smoke alarms are blaring, but this is a routine Vanitas understands, can combat in his sleep. He throws the burnt shavings of whatever was cooking, into the grass in the back of the house, turns off the oven, opens up the window and takes the batteries out of the smoke alarms. 

He doesn’t even contemplate what sort of bullshit Rueki is microwaving. Not at all. With Xehanort passed out, he calls up Rep.

“The old man’s out cold, get your ass on the ꭗ-Box.”

\--

**[ Rueki ]** today was your birthday?

**[ Vanitas ]** not really your business

**[ Rueki ]** well Ven was the one who told me.

**[ Rueki ]** just thought you should know

**[ Vanitas ]** cuz it’s fun to dangle hope under my nose?

**[ Rueki ]** okay, clearly you’re on your period or something. So whatev, we’ll talk later

They don’t talk later.

They barely speak in class and as a rule, Vanitas avoids Hearts when he knows she’s working and the only person any the wiser is Rueki. She grows increasingly more frustrated by the day as she tries and fails to close the distance that only she’ll acknowledge exists. 

“You excited for Thanksgiving Break?” She asks. He doesn’t even take his eyes off his script.

“Are improvising now?’ He asks.

“I’m trying to have a conversation.” She huffs. “Screw me for trying.”

“I’m trying not to fail this class, maybe you could pretend you care about that too.” He offers.

“That asshole cracking down on you?” She asks. He sneers.

“Maybe you should back off and mind your own business.” He orders.

Thanksgiving break comes and goes. Rueki doesn’t text him, but Rep and Xion do. He wakes up to a cigarette burn to his hand and gets a plastic plate of turkey lunch meat and powdered mashed potatoes quite literally thrown at him. Vanitas makes a move to grab ice from the freezer and gets told to man up. 

But he doesn’t think about frozen peas. Not even once.

He gets on the bus the first Monday in December, watching snow filter down in thick, dense flakes from the sky. Rueki isn’t already on board, but it’s the day they’re supposed to perform their scene so of course she’s going to show. She wouldn’t leave him alone, wouldn’t ditch him, wouldn’t stick him with reading lines with Mr. Donald for a grade. He presses his cheek to the window of the bus, the snow flakes cling to the outside of the bus, sticking to the glaze of frost smeared across the window.

Rueki Elric is an annoyance, but she won’t leave him to flounder on their scene.

Only she does.

He gets to drama class and even at the bell, Rueki, who is perfectly punctual, is absent. His eyes fly wide, he looks down at his phone and almost sends her a text. Almost, but that would mean she wins and she is not allowed to, if this is her idea of some kind of sick joke, making some sort of dramatic entrance, he’s going to make her regret it. Rueki Elric thinks an attitude and a handle on sarcasm make her a formidable opponent, but she hasn’t seen his teeth.   
He watches one by one as other students do their scenes, Mr. Donald doesn’t even get to their group today but--

But Rueki wanted them to volunteer to go first. Rueki with her loud opinions that she thinks matter because she’s got a big mouth--and pretty eyes and a voice that speaks like only his ears are meant to hear and where the hell is she? 

He trudges to Hearts in the snow without even asking Xion or Rep along and waits an hour, siping on a soda he really can’t afford, but she doesn’t show, doesn’t pop her tired eyes and slumped shoulders from the back room, doesn’t take a single damn order.

He takes the bus home and secretly hopes--does not, he chokes on his own tongue half way through the lie--she’ll be on the bus with those big headphones and that big winter jacket on. She isn’t, the light of her apartment is off. He goes home, Xehanort is smoking cigarettes on the front porch, wrapped in an old winter coat and they don’t even acknowledge each other as Vanitas walks in the front door, grabs a bag of chips that will suffice if the old man gets lit and upstairs becomes the badlands, and then trudges down the stairs. 

The next morning snow is piled up against the window of his bedroom, the pure white filtering in blinding light. Vanitas will have to shovel it away when he gets home from school today or risk having no escape from his old man. He tugs a leather jacket on over his long sleeve shirt, jams his feet into boots that barely fit and gets to the bus stop early, ready to tell Rueki off, to scream in her face until she gives and apologizes and agrees to anything that comes out of his mouth, because that’s how it goes when he gets loud enough to win the argument, he knows. Her confidence is peacock feathers and is useless for anything but show and snark. 

She doesn’t climb on the bus, Vanitas doesn’t know how school isn’t canceled, there has to be at least a foot of snow on the ground. 

He watches for her in the hallways, scanning every which way he can for a tiny head of blonde hair, he skims over Ventus and Hayner, hands linked against Hayner’s locker and the dread that used to fill his chest is replaced by dread that Rueki may well not be in school again today.

He gets to drama class, she’s not there, again, for the bell. He bites the bullet, pulls out his phone and texts her.

**[ Vanitas ]** This isn’t funny, brat

She doesn’t respond.

Mr. Donald starts calling people to the stage. 

**[ Vanitas ]** Are going to be a bitch, or are you gonna say something?

There are three more groups, Vanitas’ included, that are set to perform for the third and final day ofperformances. Vanitas texts Xion when he gets to the bus, for she works today and will not ask too many questions about why he wants to know if Rueki is working or not. He calls Rueki’s phone, it rings several times then goes to voicemail.

Xion says Rueki is not at work, Rueki’s lights are out and Vanitas spends the remaining bits of daylight carving out an escape from his window, hands burning with the angry cold as more snow falls onto him. 

On Wednesday, the sidewalk is slick and Vanitas is really wondering how the hell a snow day wasn’t called. The bus shakes and shivers on the ride to school, Rueki doesn’t get on the bus, doesn’t show up to class. Vanitas calls her frantically, it goes to voicemail and Mr. Donald demands Vanitas perform his half of the scene with Mr. Donald reading Rueki’s lines. Vanitas is so pissed he can’t see straight, his hands shake, he forgets his lines, trips and stumbles over them and any tender moment is read through gritted teeth, with sheer, unadulterated hate dripping down his mouth, like a rattlesnake’s venom. 

He calls her again. Again, he shows up at Hearts, she isn’t there. He knocks on the door of her apartment, she doesn’t answer. When he gets home,Xehanort grabs his arm a lot too hard over the money Vanitas is wasting on bus faire. He’s too drunk to realize that school is five miles away, but bruises flower on Vanitas’ skin when outside is too cold and depraved for a thing to blossom. He clutches that arm all night and whispers in the dark, the words he’ll say to Rueki the next time he sees her, the accusations he’ll throw, the way he’ll watch for her eyes to go soft so he can cut her where it hurts the most--because she walked away from him, because she left him to fend for himself, because he’s supposed to be holding her distant from him but instead of staying just out of reach, she leapt back to the start like there was never a moment, like he never felt her shoulder brush his in the boat house or her hips against his on the bus, like he doesn’t know the way her hair and sheets smell.

He sees her in the hallway the very next day, she looks like shit. She’s not wearing any makeup, not even her bright red lipstick, she doesn’t look like she’s slept in a year and if he’s being honest, her skin is white and waxy like she just recovered from the flu. This does not deter him. He walks straight up to her until they’re chest to chest and slams a hand down so hard on the locker beside herthat his palm leaves an indentation. She flinches like she didn’t see the dark cloud of all that he is drifting through the halls.

“Hey.” She says softly, like she’s trying to find her voice.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asks.

“Home, sick.” He almost believes it based on how tragic she looks, but she says it like a well rehearsed line, too rigid, too formal. He dips low, so that he meets her eyes and places his other hand against the locker behind her, effectively contorting her body so that she’s pressed up to the lockers, so that she’s staring right at him and has nowhere to go.

“So you can’t pick up your damn phone? Or do you want to come up with a better lie?” He seethes and her eyes flash. There’s fear in them, real fear. His gut demands he pull away but everything he’s ever been tells him to get closer, to close the distance so that her body is against his and she really starts to sweat. So he does. He sees the breath catch in her throat and wonders when this is supposed to feel satisfying. 

“What ever happened to us not being friends?” She snaps like a rubberband, quick to recover, defenses built up at rapid speed. Her shoulders square, she stands taller and leans in so that her nose presses to his.

“What happened to us being partners?” He seethes, refusing to blink, refusing to flinch because if he doesn’t, she will. Right?

“I wasn’t here for one project, you can calm your tits.” She makes a move to shoulder past him, but he grabs those shoulders, which look remarkably small in his hands, and shoves her into the locker. At first, she gasps, but then she shoves him off of her. He grabs her wrists, he can’t see straight, he’s going to pin her straight to the locker and make her regret--

The first period warning bell rings. He’s going to be late to class and he doesn’t even give half a shit.

“You are _trash_.” He hisses at her. “You are _useless_.”

“Oh, I am?” She scoffs. “Says the school’s resident bastard. No wonder Ven left you, I’m not fragile but your mood swings give me whiplash.” 

Oh there it is. Her claws are out, she’s got knives in her teeth, swords in her eyes, he should’ve known better than to think the softness of her body against his was indicative of--he thinks of that deadly scar on her stomach and something about it makes more sense when he sees her like this --anything.

He doesn’t pin her to the locker, instead, he smashes his forearm above her head and leans in.

“Did you know that no one here gives a shit if you live or die? You could burst into flames right here and no one would care. You think you have friends? You think you have to worry about keeping people at an arms length? What a damn joke.” He laughs, low and dangerous because there has to be something in the way she goes rigid beneath him, something that compels Xehanort when Vanitas goes stiff with fear. There has to be something in the way that he’s so much bigger than her. “You don’t have anyone. The only reason anyone talks to you is cuz they think you’ll spread your legs. The only reason anyone acknowledges you is because they think you’re easy.”

She’s very still beneath him, but her hands shake. Maybe like she wants to hit him, maybe in fear, he’s not sure he knows.

“Is that why you talk to me? Is that why you stayed over?” Her voice is like a whisper.

“Yes.” He tells her when he means no. He hopes it hurts her. In her eyes, it is very clear that it does. “Of course it is, why the hell else would I waste my time with you? You’re annoying on a good day. You don’t deserve to clean the blood off my face. Slut.”

She shoves his chest, her jaw is so rigid, it’s like he’s not even looking at her anymore. The final bell tolls, ringing shrill like a fire alarm.

“Lose my number. Don’t look at me again. Don’t talk to me again, don’t stop into work on my shifts. You are...you’re dead to me.” 

Her shoulder knocks with his on her way through the halls, there’s a ghost that remains in her absence but he doesn’t want to take the words and shovel them back in his mouth faster than he had time to spit them out. He doesn’t wish she could read his mind and see through the scramble, through the haze--through the whydidyouleaveme. He doesn’t regret any of it, the icy ache of watching some blond leave his side over the words he said, does not bother him. That pain is familiar, familiar he can handle.

\--

And true to her word, she doesn’t say a single thing to him. When they’re supposed to be practicing their final monologues, she puts her headphones on and drowns him out or disappears just outside the auditorium to smoke cigarettes for the entire class period. She doesn’t say a thing when performances start, doesn’t even utter a word when the final bell before holiday break tolls. She disappears like smoke on the wind, he tells himself he doesn’t miss her. He’s managed to get along this long without her stapled to his side, screw her for touching his face with the type of tenderness she could so easily forget and he never will. He puts his headphones on, ignoring her on the bus in favor of blasting a song that’s wistful, an aching of hard earned love and betrayal. He gets too into it then turns it off, because this is exactly the type of early 90’s, pseudo grunge bullshit she’d die for.

\--

It’s snowing on Christmas eve, anywhere but his own house, that would be beautiful. But Vanitas is an idiot. The type of idiot who wants to eat damn cookies but sets the oven on fire and gets his face put into a countertop over it. His nose is fine this time, by the grace of any good remnants in the world. But that’s about all that’s good that he can come up with.

The snow on his eye is icy and harsh and he wishes he had the good sense to grab a jacket before sprinting out the door, but Xehanort is still pacing in the kitchen and he remembers the broken nose like it was given to him yesterday, so he doesn’t dare move a muscle.

He shouldn’t be shocked by the sight of pale smoke in the dark, or the dim light of embers, or even who is emitting the light.

He is surprised when she sinks down next to him on the porch, ashes the cigarette and forces his hand down, looking at his eye under the yellow light of the porch.

Rueki's arms twist around him, slipping beneath his to wrap around his waist and she puts her head on his shoulder like she’s the one that needs comfort. She doesn’t smell the same as Xehanort, he realizes.

“What do you smoke?” He asks her.

“Menthols.” She answers, never shaken by him, not in the slightest. “Why didn’t you call me, Van?”

“You told me to lose your number.” He grumbles and though her hair smells kind of like smoke, it also smells kind of like rain and it would be so easy to slip his arms back around her, to move her into his lap so her warmth is pressed to him. She’d probably even let him.

“It’s Christmas Eve and he did this to you?” She asks.

“That doesn't really mean shit to him.” He grumbles. She presses her cheek to his shoulder, he feels her lips brush his neck.

“Do you wanna come over?” She asks.

“Why aren’t you spending Christmas with your family?” He grumbles.

“Cuz I’m not.” She answers, like she does. 

“I was an asshole to you.” He grumbles. “I liked seeing you hurt.”

“Yeah, you’re a screwed up dude, I know that.” But she rubs his back and the wind doesn’t feel so harsh. 

“Why are you inviting me over then? Cuz if it’s a pity thing, I swear--”

“It’s cuz you’re my friend, dumbass.” She groans, finally pulling away. “I’m not some stranger who feels sorry for you, you’re my friend and you shouldn’t have to spend Christmas like this and I don’t want to spend Christmas alone, so how about you come over?”

“You gonna make me hot pockets?” He leers and she finally smiles and oh help him, he likes it.

“I burt some cookies. But I went out and got Oreos, and my milk’s still good so we can dunk them. And I know you’re going to be an asshole about it, but I love Christmas, so I promise all you have to do is suffer through a couple Christmas movies with me.” She slips her hands down into his and squeezes. He doesn’t remember how to move or breathe or think.

“You’re gonna have to shower cuz I hate that smell, the old man smokes, and--”

“Done, seriously. I only do this when I’ve had a really bad day.” She explains. He wonders what constitutes a bad day in Rueki’s book.

“And...Krampus has to count as a Christmas movie.” He mutters. She looks at him like he is made of gold. No one has ever looked at him like this. She leans in and whispers in his ear.

“You’re the devil.”

“The old man calls me a monster.” Vanitas admits, her face falls as she pulls away. But then she stands and offers a hand to him. 

“Come on. I hate the snow.” 

He takes her hand. He goes to her place. While she showers, he changes into the swears she loaned him and grabs the oreos and pours them each a glass of milk.

She puts Krampus on and pulls a blanket over them.

When he wakes up Christmas morning, she is asleep on his chest. She’s not up, she doesn’t even stir. Instead, she cuddles into his chest, he wraps her arms around her waist and decides to sleep in.


	7. fresh out of fucks forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh there is something so nice about putting out a holiday themed chapter right around the holidays

7\. fresh out of fucks forever  
 _if you weren’t mine, I’d be  
jealous of your love_

There’s a part of Vanitas, a very small percentage of him that wants to pretend he doesn’t enjoy a second of time spent in Rueki’s apartment. 

It’s the same part of him that wants to pretend that her dancing around in knee socks, to Christmas music, while making them poptarts on Christmas morning, did nothing for him.

It’s the same part of him that tells himself he doesn’t enjoy waking up beside her the following morning with her hands snaked up inside of his T-shirt, her warm hands against his skin.

It’s the same part of him that almost said no when she offered to let him stay the rest of the break at her place.

It’s the part of him that screams something is going to ruin this again so he should because it’s that much better if he’s in control. 

But suddenly, it’s New Years Eve and he was able to sneak home and grab up a ton of clothes a few days ago, so he sits in her place, in joggers and a T-shirt, watching her television, one of her blankets on his lap, her favorite candle lit, because she lights up better than a Christmas tree when she gets home from work and he has it lit for her. And he doesn’t care about that, not really. And it’s not so easy to settle into being on her couch, eating dinner with her, watching campy holiday movies, forgetting that he ever has to return home. Except he does care and it is easy and that only bothers him the second she slips out the door, goes to work, disappears with her winter coat on and promises him she’ll be back, because the second she’s gone it’s easy to convince himself that she’ll never return.

It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Truthfully though, the second she returns home and they nestle back into the knifes edge of feelings unspoken, in the cradle of her makeshift home, Vanitas forgets he’ll ever have to return to school, to his father’s house, to being human. He thinks Rueki forgets too, the obnoxious girl who stripped out of her clothes to jump into Sora’s pool, the girl who told him school dances were only fun because life wasn’t real during them, the girl with the gal to steal a bottle of champagne and get drunk with him in someone else's pool house doesn’t seem like the same girl who plops down a carry out tray or a plate of hot pockets in front of him and drinks hot chocolate under a blanket with him every night--or maybe she does and he’s seeing all of her colors on full display, despite his hesitance, despite her fear, despite everything that makes them who they are. 

**[ Rep ]** Yo

Rueki’s shift is done in fifteen minutes, Vanitas’ hair is wet, he used her shampoo and is drying his hair with one of her towels, when Rep texts him, Vanitas’ phone buzzes against the bathroom counter.

Xehanort texted him once in the week he’s been gone. Once to ask him to get milk after school. The old man has the two weeks at the end of the year off and it’s good to know that he’s so damn drunk he doesn’t realize Vanitas does too. Vanitas never picked up the milk but he does pick up his phone when he sees Rep’s contact on his screen.

**[ Vanitas ]** Everything okay?

Because Rep rarely texts him pleasantries, usually there’s a text demanding Vanitas get online to play games or sometimes a stupid meme or an idiotic picture of Riku that Rep just deperately wants to trash, but not usually pleasantries. Vanitas looks wildly toward the bathroom door and wonders if there’s some way that Rep is watching him now. 

**[ Rep ]** You know how it is with Vexen, same shit different day.

Vanitas does know. Knows a lot too well, and while Vexen doesn’t express love to his adopted children with open hand or closed fist nearly as often as Xehanort, the psychological warfare in that house has to be at a nuclear level this week.

**[ Rep ]** I guess Roxas and Ven are having a New Years Party. Kinda sticky, but Xion really wants to go and Vexen’s gonna be busy all night and I’m pretty sure Nam’s gonna be there. Think you can sneak away from the old man?

Three months ago, the answer wouldn’t have even required hesitation. Not in the slightest bit. A party at Ventus Golde’s place would have been the prime chance to sneak in a moment for redemption with Ventus. Nevermind the fact that Aqua and Terra would surely be there since they were likely home on break as well, nevermind the fact that the only times Vanitas has seen Ventus at school, the blond has been continuously, consistently fixated on Hayner. With the snow coming down, he thinks about Rueki’s comment about dramatic gestures and the way it would make some kind of scene, elicit some sort of reaction, to slip away with Ventus and count down the new year, just the two of them, arms around each other, lips pressed together. It would piss Aqua off something fierce not to have her friend for the new year, it would vex Terra unbelievably that Vanitas had utterly commandeered Ventus. Vanitas would win, that would be that.

But now, when Vanitas has effectively snuck away from the old man, he’s--

The front door opens and closes, Vanitas finishes drying off his hair and tosses the towel over the rod in the bathroom.

He’s unsure.

Rueki kicks off her boots, thick with snow and shivers as she takes off her jacket, wiping stray snowflakes out of the front of her hair that a hood up did not protect.

In joggers and a hoodie, Vanitas looks about as party ready as Rueki, still wearing her work clothes, sans apron.

“I hate snow.” She grumbles, not for the first time. 

“Well you don’t work tomorrow, so what does it matter?” Vanitas asks. She shoots him an annoyed look, swiping a hand through her hair.

“It’s the fact that I had to go out in it in the first place. I’d move somewhere tropical tomorrow if I could.” She admits.

“Is that what you’re doing for college next year?” He asks and that annoyance wipes right off her face, like he’s something more than average for asking her a simple question.

“I actually have a pretty good scholarship for Daybreak University.” She explains and that would explain the lack of annoyance. Vanitas would be damn stoked too if he was getting mostly free college.

“Well, are you too scared of the snow to go out? Ven and Roxas are having a party.” Vanitas says and Rueki’s color disappears right away, she’s so reactive he understands entirely why she made it such a big point to try to keep distant from others, it has nothing to do with her being so charismatic that people want to get to know her, it’s just that she’s bursting at the seams of her own feelings, constantly on display. She tucks her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I know. Kairi told me I should come out. I’d really rather not.” She says, wiping a palm across her dirty jeans. 

And Vanitas realizes full well he set up the question like he wasn’t going unless she was, that the event would be attended together--and truly in his head, he didn’t realize he was imagining it that way, but he was. And in her blatant refusal, he doesn’t know where he stands.

“And if it’s all the same to you, I wouldn’t hate it if you stayed in, too.” She murmurs. His eyes widen.

“Why the hell would I do that?” He balks. “Why are you even asking me to, what ever happened to wanting to keep your distance?”

“Omigod, fat lot of good that did.” She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been living at my place for a week.”

“Cuz you asked me to.” He reminds her and to his surprise, she doesn’t fight him on that.

“Right, cuz despite best laid plans, I already told you and I doubt you can fight me on the fact that you and I are friends, you’re the closest friend I have here beyond Kairi, so that’s why I was asking you to stay here. With me.” She’s chewing on her lips, those full red lips like she’s trying to deflect all attention to them.

“Why don’t you just ask her here then?” He asks. She just shakes her head and starts in toward the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of champagne, the very same brand that she stole from the homecoming party and sets it on the counter.

“She stole this from her parents and gave it to me before school went on break because she knows me well enough to know asking me to go out in the winter is just a courtesy. I’m going to take a shower, then I’m going to open this, if you’re here when I get out, that’d be pretty fly. If you’re not, I sure can’t stop you.” And just like that, with feelings hanging from a wire, blatant and bare, Rueki grabs some clothes out of her dresser and walks past Vanitas, as though he is nothing more than a ghost, into the bathroom. 

He’d like to tell himself it’s curiosity that keeps him anchored, or maybe he just really wants champagne. But that wouldn’t explain the fact that he orders pizza from the cheapest place in town--the only place he can afford with the minuscule money he made shoveling snow the first few days of break-- or that he texts Rep back

**[ Vanitas ]** Don’t think I can make it out. The weather’s kinda shit anyway, the last thing I need is the old fart seeing my boot prints sneaking back in.

She’s wearing leggings and a hoodie when she gets out of the shower, her hair drips down onto the floor and she rings it with a towel, face genuinely surprised when she sees him on the couch. But Vanitas isn’t one for this sort of sappy relief especially when it hasn’t been earned. 

“If we’re friends, do you let all of your friends stay here for weeks on end?” He asks her, training his eyes back to the coffee table and not her face, certainly not her face. He hears the sound of her popping open the champagne bottle and hears the anticipatory fizz as it pours into glasses. 

“Most people don’t know my living situation. You do, because obviously. So does Kairi because we’ve known each other since we were really little. So no, I don’t let people stay here, I don’t let people come here, because I don’t think it’s any of their business.” She explains, he hears her footsteps and feels the weight of her sinking down beside him. She sets a mug full of champagne on the table and takes a drink from a mug of her own as she sinks into the couch.

“Why me then?” He mutters, voice low because he realizes the second the words leave his mouth that he fears and hopes for the answer. She kicks her legs up onto the coffee table, crosses and uncrosses them. He looks at her to watch her mouth twist and her eyes go very, very sad. Pity, he predicts, is the answer, and that is a knockout punch to the gut.

“Because if you knew the reason I left my last school, I get the distinct feeling that you’d get it.” Oh, not what he was expecting but hardly satisfying. She takes another drink from her mug, he heaves a sigh and reaches for his.

“I don’t know a damn thing about you.” He grumbles. She goes incredibly tense beside him, then shifts her weight away, leaning into the arm of the couch. She tucks her legs up, suddenly quite fidgety. “You act like you’re the only real person in the world. But then you’re friends with Kairi?”

“Is Kairi not a real person?” She’s looking at him again, as though this is a relieving topic for her. He wants to shake her shoulders and demand answers pour out of her like a levee breaking, but he has no idea where he’d even begin. 

“She’s about as real as the damn tooth fairy. Homecoming queen, president of the National Honor Society, head cheerleader, her parents are rich as hell, and she’s a lesbian and no one even has a shit comment to make about that? What kind of charmed life bullshit is that?” He seethes, and Rueki actually laughs, this dry, humorless laugh.

“Oh, okay, I didn’t realize you knew literally nothing about Kairi.” She replies. “My bad.” But she says it like it’s not her bad at all and he’s the colossal idiot for feeling frustration of the injustice of barely inking along while the entire town worships her. And it’s not like he wants Miss Radiant Garden crucified for being gay, but--

But Xehanort would have broken more than just his arm if he knew Vanitas was pinning pretty boys to lockers and kissing them. 

“Do you even know her, or do you just put her on some damn pedestal because you don’t want anyone to know anything about you?” He scoffs. She takes a long sip, eerily calm, like all of his frustration is water under the bridge in the grand scheme of her own life.

“I know that she kissed Selphie Tilmitt for the first time when she was eleven and then came and cried in my bed at summer camp because she had no idea how she was going to tell her ultra conservative parents that she didn’t want a single thing to do with Sora or Riku and that her appetite lied with ruffly skirts and doe eyes. I know that her parents idea of ‘acceptance’ was telling her that she could be whatever she wanted, just that she didn’t need to ‘put it on display’ for everyone to see. And when she did start dating, actually dating and her parents couldn’t escape the fact that everyone in town knew she liked girls, they treated it like a damn crutch. Her father touts to all of his friends that he has an insight on ‘those people’ because his daughter is one of them, and says there’s no way he can be homophobic because his daughter is a lesbian. I know that she breaks up with girls before things get serious enough to meet her parents because she can’t brave her dad dropping gay slurs and her mom asking who the man in their relationship is, over dinner. And yeah, she’s really pretty and really smart and really social and it seems like the whole world likes her, but I know how bad she wants to be liked and how hard she works to feel like there’s some stability in her life outside of home. So I’d say I know her a little.”

And just like that Vanitas knows more about Kairi Sinclair than he knows about Rueki. Rueki who is so eager to flood secrets to avoid herown.

“Do you spread my business like that to her? Tell Kairi that I’m just the sad kid who lost his boyfriend and whose dad--” Vanitas’ breath hitches, Rueki leaps up from where she’s at and takes his hand in hers. Vanitas flinches, but she holds on like some sort of parasite--like she’s more stable than his fear. 

“Never.” She swears, but he just scoffs.

“Like I would trust you.” He sneers.

“I wish you would.” She offers. “Kairi would tell you that stuff to your face if you asked her. She’s an open book, I wouldn’t go around telling people stuff she didn’t want known. I wouldn’t tell anyone something you didn’t want known.”

“You don’t want anyone to know a thing about you…” He mumbles, eyes flicking up to hers. She’s so much closer now, hand still in his. She chews on her lips.

“Your friends...do they know?” She murmurs, soft and anxious.

“Why do you care?” He demands.

“Because I do.” She replies. “Because someone should and it makes me sick it’s 2020 and no one has done anything to stop your bastard father from this.” She removes her hand from his and traces a bruise on his face with the kind of tenderness that short circuits his entire body, like an error code. 

“I--” He chokes, her skin is so soft, fresh out of the shower she smells like rainfall. He clears his throat and looks away from her. “You know Rep and Xion are adopted, right?”

“Uh, I didn’t.” She mumbles as her hand falls away from his face. 

“Well their dad’s some sort of scientist or something. Mainly research, I guess, but everything’s an experiment with the guy, including adopting kids. Like he was wondering if some well to do douchebag like himself was raising kids, would they turn into productive members of society?” Vanitas recalls from what Rep and Xion had told him, and there’s a tightening in his chest when he realizes he’s as shamelessly gossipy as he accused her of being. “I--you can’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, I’m serious.” Because he has no idea if either of them would be okay or not with him sharing this type of information.

“How about we just lay that down as a ground rule, anything that gets discussed here, stays here.” She offers. 

“You act like you’re some sort of human safe haven.” He wrinkles his nose and she laughs, this abrasive sound that he decides immediately he hates.

“Nah dude, I’m just really trying here.” She explains like he’s supposed to understand. 

“Well their dad’s not like mine...his methods are more psychological.” Vanitas mutters.

“And misery really loves company.” Rueki chews her lip. Vanitas just snorts. Maybe he’s more like her than he realizes.

“No, they just don’t ask me to talk about it. Someone else would.” She would. She reads wonderfully between the lines and laughs, this time less abrasive. He takes a drink from his champagne and decides he still doesn’t like it but does find some satisfaction in the bite of the carbonation. 

“I’m kind of an asshole huh?” She asks, cocking her head to the side. “I get this glimpse into your life cuz I’m a trainwreck who smokes when she’s sad and don’t even try to even the score.” She says it like it’s the cruelest thing she could ever do to him and he almost wants to reassure her like isn’t, like this is enough for him, but it’s not and if she’s dangling this tasty tidbit, then he is starving. “My um...my parents are dead. Both of them. Died in a car crash last winter during a bad snow storm. My dad lost control of the wheel, we hit another car, they all made it but I lost my parents.”

There’s something heavy in the air, Vanitas takes a drink of champagne like he’s holding onto a crutch, like there’s something nasty around the corner and this is all he has to cling on to, the only thing stable, the only thing real.

“Fuck.” He just says, because ‘sorry’ feels all wrong.

“And I was falling asleep in the back seat when he lost control, but I woke right up as we spun out and I just remember the way it felt, like my hands got tingly and my face got really hot and everything moved so fast and I...I can’t deal with anything when the weather gets like this.” She rakes a hand through her hair.

“That’s why you didn’t come in to do our scene.” He realizes and she meets him with nothing but a sheepish expression.

“And why I’m not going out tonight. And why I couldn’t do another year at my other school. The way that people look at you when they know your business...I get why you don’t want people to know yours, I just don’t think it’s fair the way you have to deal with it.” She shakes her head. “I mean, it’s even worse when you full on lose your shit in early March on a day school should’ve been canceled because of a damn ice storm, people talk. A lot. And as much as I really love getting my sanity called into question by all of my peers, I just… I’m going to college next year and no one knows about my life there. Everyone knew about it in Twilight Town. So I sold my parents house, I got everything squared away so I wouldn’t have to spend a year and a half of my life in foster care, and I came here, because I knew Kairi lived here and she was the only person I knew who didn’t look at me like I was a damn charity case. And I was going to make exactly zero more friends and hell, you would not have been my first choice, all I could think was this kid’s a little poser, he acts like some grunge wannabee who has the hardest life anyone’s ever lived, but he probably doesn’t even know what struggle looks like...but you do.”

He does. And she does. And there’s something in the air around him and cynically, Vanitas would love to believe it’s the two swigs of champagne that he’s taken that have altered the world around him. Or maybe it’s the way he still smells rainfall, in her wet hair, in his, the way he taste the electricity in the air as she holds his stare like she’s only ever looked at him like this, like she was made so perfectly to settle into the cracks of all that he is. It’s so romantic and too sweet for him to fathom such a possibility, but his head is swimming with the information overload, of all the things about her that suddenly make sense. Of course she wants school dances to feel like they’re not real life, of course she wants distance, of course she’ll let him cry with a champagne bottle in the dark, the trauma response is sickeningly familiar. To her, heartache and loss are familiar, of course she treds them more comfortably than anyone he’s ever met.

The girl laughing with Kairi, throwing off her clothes and jumping into the pool becomes a young woman giving herself a metaphorical baptism after a year that sucked for both of them.

“I… My mom died last year. I don’t really remember her much, I was young when she left my dad, so I just remember her back when she walked out the door and that’s about it. But she reached out to me last year, she knew what kind of rat bastard my father was and she pieced her life together and was about to fight for custody of me. And yeah, that really was too little too late, but it was something and I just wanted to be out so bad, and Ven and I were together and she didn’t have an issue with that and my old man would’ve and then… I dunno, I just heard she relapsed. I guess I don’t remember her being on drugs at all, but she was and she overdosed and…” Vanitas takes a breath, forces his stare away from her, because each syllable pierces his lungs like a poison. “I get the losing your shit thing. Ventus didn’t. I picked a fight with his friend and when he broke up with me cuz it was too much to handle, I bashed the windows of his friend’s car in. Terra’s parents filed charges, they ended up getting pled down and I got stuck with community service but...but Xehanort, my old man was just pissed that we didn’t have the money for a damn lawsuit…”

“And that was when he broke your arm.” She predicts. He doesn’t answer and hopes that’s as much of an answer as he needs to give. “He doesn’t get to do that to you anymore, Van. You’ll come here instead.” 

He doesn’t think anyone has ever called him ‘Van’ before, but he thinks he likes the familiarity of a nickname on her lips.

“That scar on your stomach...was that from the car accident?” He asks. Her eyes widen.

“How did you--”

“The party at Sora’s, when you and Kairi jumped into the pool.” He explains, her face flushes, apparently she does feel a trace of embarrassment there underneath her know-it-all attitude. 

He likes that she’s all armor though, he likes that it has taken this long to find her soft spot. Maybe she really does get it.

“Looks nasty, huh?” She pulls up the fabric of her hoodie a little, revealing some of that angry, red line. “Hurt like a son of a bitch, recovering, I had to be so careful not to rip the stitches…” She chews her lip. “I know it’s literally the dumbest thing in the world to think my life will never have another sad moment again, but I can’t deal with that again, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do that scene with you and that I’m still losing my shit now, but.. .I just… I really just don’t feel so alone with you. And I really like feeling less alone.”

Oh no, him too.

“I--” He tries, fumbles, looks courage in the eyes and begs for it, but only manages to grasp her hand. She sets her mug aside, so does he. “I’m gonna kiss you.” 

But she leans in, leans in and wraps her arms so securely around his middle that there’s no doubt in his mind that she wants to be anywhere but here, with him.

It’s midnight on New Years eve, and Rueki kisses his mouth like she’ll never get sick of the taste.


	8. take a deep breath, baby let me in

8\. take a deep breath, baby, let me in  
 _’cause even in the dark, I feel your resistance  
you can see my heart burning in the distance_

**[ Rueki ]** Get yourself a hall pass and meet me in the orchestra pit.

Vanitas heart flickers like a strobe light in his chest as every defiant tendency in his bones melts away. When he gets to the orchestra pit, Rueki is on him and against him and all over him. Her hands stray into his hair, onto his neck, against his chest and even under his shirt for a very brief instant, he feels the warmth of her skin against his shivering abdomen.

So this is what thrill feels like. 

He kisses her so hungrily, with no patience for teasing. His hands on her cheeks, he probes every inch of her mouth with his tongue like each time is simultaneously the first and last time and if he can memorize the shape and feel and taste of her mouth, he’ll feel the delicious reverberations of the sounds she makes, beneath his skin. 

When they part, her breath is hot, so is his flushed face. Even in the low light, he sees the redness on her face and neck and wonders what she would do if he sucked the patches of rosiness on her neck. 

Wonders, but their noses bump and brush in the dark and she hums these sweet little noises but tells him they should get back to class.

And he doesn’t disagree, doesn’t think for a second that Xehanort won’t give him hell to pay if he’s gone long enough for the teacher to get antsy. Back home three days and he already misses the warmth of Rueki’s bed and the feeling of her leaning against him on the couch to watch movies. 

But no one’s any the wiser. Not Xehanort, who barely acknowledged his absence if at all, not the school, not even Rep, Xion, or Kairi. 

So Vanitas takes with him this best kept secret and gets high off of the memory of the sounds Rueki makes for the remainder of the day. 

\--

“Cid, I’m gonna go smoke.” He hears Rueki say one afternoon in February, at Hearts, from where he is wedged between Rep and the window, feeling the cold of the winter air penetrating through the old glass. Vanitas’ heart quickens when he hears her speak in code, hears the secret language Rueki conveys to him so publicly as she slips into the back room. Vanitas stretches his arms above his head and looks to Rep.

“Hey, move.” He tells Rep who snorts. “The old man texted, wants to know where the fuck I am, I’m gonna go outside and make it sound like I’m shoveling snow or some shit.”

“Good idea.” Rep concedes, but Xion looks at him with her prying eyes and the questions that brim from them. She knows something is off and Vanitas knows that she knows, but as long as she doesn’t ask, he won’t give her a hint. Not when the excitement swelling in his chest as he sneaks out of the diner and heads just behind it, to meet Rueki, is intoxicating. 

In her big, poofy winter coat, his hands sink into the curves of her waist. He presses her against the brick of the building and slides his lips against her. 

She licks his lips, teases his tongue, keeps him on the brink of starvation in the sweetest of way. She teases hands up his shirt, his jacket is open and though her hands and the air around him are cold, he doesn’t so much mind when she wraps her hands around him and draws him in impossibly closer.

When they part, like air is an inconvenience, breath forms hot, dense clouds around the two of them. 

“You wanna come over tomorrow? I don’t work.” Rueki offers. “I’ve got a project due for English tonight or I--”

He silences her by sucking her lower lip between his teeth until she whines.

“Of course I’m coming over.” He growls when he lets her lip free.

\--

They’re on her couch, she’s on his lap, his head is pressed into the arm of the couch and it’s getting hellishly hard to hide the fact that he’s hard, when she grinds so desperately into him. She takes her shirt off, his heart nearly bursts in his chest, he grabs handfuls of her tits, through the bralette she wears and she fully moans, nipples peeking in his hands. Drunk on the feeling, he sucks down her jaw, to her neck, just behind her ear, and the sound she makes has his cock twitching in time with his throbbing heart.

“Do you have a condom?” She asks and oh, this is happening, this is a conversation they’re having, dammit. He pulls away from her, all blotchy, reddened skin and hormones though he knows she’s in no better shape. 

“No I...have you ever…” It’s like there’s a hand squeezing around his throat, because he wants to and he wants her, wants her so bad he feels like he’s going to burst into flames, but it’s only been a month and a half and he has no idea what he’s doing. 

“Only twice. What about you?” She asks, huffing like it’s a challenge to come down from the heights they climbed to in tandem. 

“I--” With Ventus it was less daunting, the concept. Their parts were the same, Vanitas had an idea of what the other boy would like because he knew what he liked, and while they never actually got to that point, Vanitas never felt the creeping anxiety that he would somehow let down-- “No, I...I haven't.” He chokes and pretends it has everything to do with the fluster of libido. 

“Oh.” Her eyes widen, her hands still on his chest, she chews her lip and hell, he wants to chew it for her. “Okay, then zero pressure. Everything at your pace, if you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to.”

“No, I--” Why is it so easy to fall into witty banter with her? Why is it so easy to kiss and touch her but so difficult to admit shortcomings with the same ease? “I don’t have protection or anything… but I really want to.” He grasps her hips in his hands.

“You know it doesn’t have to be now, I’m not going anywhere.” She assures him, leaning down to kiss his neck so gently that he shivers. Why do her words make him that much harder? Why does such a delicate touch nearly break him in half? “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything to keep me around, I’m good with this too.” She nuzzles the crook between his neck and shoulder and he damn near comes apart right there.

“I want to. I want it to be with you.” He does, so badly he can’t even express. She pushes herself up so that she’s looking at him, touches his jaw with gentle fingertips and then presses a kiss light as air on his mouth. 

“Well how do you want it to be? Do you want to plan something, do you want it to be somewhere specific, do you want me to light candles or put on music or--”

“I’m not a child.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to do stupid fairytale shit like that for me.” And then he thinks about it. “I don’t want it to be like some dumb high school dance for you where it’s so perfect it isn’t real.”

Her eyes flash.

“No, that’s not what I was trying to do.” She shakes her head, quite insistent. She rubs her hands down his chest then loops them around his waist, pulling his torso flush with hers as she slithers to lay down on top of him and shift, her body is warm and soft, and he’s going to have to jerk himself off in her bathroom, dammit. “I like this, Van. I’m having fun. I feel good when I’m with you, like scarily so. I don’t feel like the floor’s going to fall out from beneath me, this feels safe and real. And I just want everything to feel as good for you too, I don’t want you to go anywhere.” 

Oh. 

It seems unreal that she could fathom a world where he would get sick of her, where he would break up with her, where anything in his world could ever compare to the comfort of sleeping in her bed, the bliss of her body up against his. The knowledge that someone knows full well what he’s dealing with and will sit with him in the trenches for as long as he possibly needs. A world where he could ever be the one to leave her seems so impossible to him that it makes his throat tighten. It’s all hitting him so hard and so fast, he’s glad she’s settled onto his chest so she can’t look him in the eye.

“What about when you go away to college?” He asks quietly. “What if my old man catches on that I’m sneaking out every night?”

“Then I’ll call the cops on him and you’ll go to foster care and I’ll adopt you the second I turn eighteen and we’ll have a scandalous, illicit relationship that makes us the talk of the town.” She flourishes and he snorts, flicking the top of her head. “He’s not taking you from me, I’ll break you out of your house, I’ll storm in and shout at him, you’re not going to get punished for having someplace safe to be.”

“I think you underestimate what kind of bastard he can be.” Vanitas mutters, Rueki snickers against his skin, a puff of hot air.

“I think you underestimate the kind of bitch I can be.” She counters and heaven help him, he believes her. Or at least believes in her. “As for college, I’m getting an apartment up there, I’m trying to save up for a car. Selling my parents house is paying for this place and the place I’ll have up at school. Daybreak Town is only a couple hours away, it's not totally miserable. I’ll pick you up from school and drop you off every morning, you’ll be eighteen just after me, it’s not even a full year away, we just have to make it through that and then you can live with me for real, without having to worry about your dad or anyone else.”

Nauseating cynicism cuts through her optimism.

“You really think you’re going to want to be with me for that long?” He murmurs. 

“I’m sure some of it is the high of only being together for a couple months.” She admits, which doesn’t fail to twist his stomach. “But as long as we’re only as much of a pain in the ass to the other as we were when you were trying to piss me off and I was trying to make you uncomfortable, then I doubt we’ll have a problem.” Maybe she’s right, maybe the outright hostility they met each other with, maybe the fact that he flat out tried to hurt her before, maybe her admitting to purposefully being a pain in his ass, maybe that laid the type of ground work he didn’t with Ventus. Maybe, but he feels equal parts secure and terrified. Secure because she’s got her arms around him, but terrified because this is not anything he knows how to be. A boyfriend is not something he knows how to behave as and how is he supposed to hold onto something so unfamiliar?

Vanitas hates things that are new. 

“What happens when your friends find out about this?” He asks.

“What happens when your friends find out about this?” She replies and he rolls his eyes.

“They’re not like your friends.” He mutters and she scoffs.

“Right, I forgot my lesbian best friend who wants to get out of her house as bad as you want to get out of yours, is the most judgemental human on earth, my b.” Oh what an asshole she can be, maybe he shouldn’t be afraid of her and Xehanort ever going head to head--but of course he would be, because he doesn’t want her to ever hurt like he has. Not again, he wants to swallow up their relationship inside of him, where nothing can reach it, no one can touch it, no one can ever break it. 

“I just mean we hang out with different people. We don’t spend a lot of time together in public. What if someone tries to tell you something shitty about me, what if people don’t talk to you anymore because you’re dating me? I know Rep and Xion won’t get weird but I don't know about your people.” He confesses, letting hands stray into her hair.

“Okay, sure, we hang out with different people. But I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who talks trash about the person I’m dating. I know who you are, you know who I am better than almost anyone. Opinions aren’t really going to sway me, have you not learned that I’m frustratingly stubborn on a good day?” She asks and he supposes so because only someone frustratingly stubborn could hang onto him this long. Ventus surely couldn’t. But it doesn’t settle the surge of negative emotions brewing inside of him. Somehow, she seems to know this. “I already told you though, we don’t need to do this at any certain pace. We can keep things just between the two of us for a little while if you’d feel better about that.” She kisses his chest and he makes a stupid little noise from beneath her.

“What happens when you get bored with that?” He asks.

“Then I tell you to your face and we sort that out, idiot.” She kisses him again. “This isn’t delicate for me, Van. I’m not going to disappear because you can be a dick and because I don’t back down from fights. We already know this. I’m not so flighty that I’m going to leave you because I’m bored.”

No, but she has left her life behind because the intensity of negative emotion got to be too much for her and he doesn’t and cannot forget that. 

Not when everything that has bubbled up in his chest up until now has been the very epitome of negative emotion.


	9. don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh this chapter was supposed to be more ~drama ~ but I'm not mad about this. There will be more drama later and if yall need drama, go read Rueki's actual series and forward your therapy bills to me

9\. don’t be a jerk, don’t call me a taxi  
_if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst  
that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt_

Winter in Radiant Garden is, as always, achingly long, stretching and spreading into the months that should be deemed ‘spring’. 

With great care, Vanitas manages not to get caught sneaking out by Xehanort in the few months he and Rueki have been together. Watching months tick by on the calendar, watching March fade into early April makes him feel increasingly more like something is about to go tragically wrong. Because how can he ever hold something that still feels so good, without breaking it apart in his bare hands?

By the beginning of April, they’re falling asleep in her bed together, he wakes every morning with frustrating horniness and an annoyance with himself for not remedying that yet, for not ignoring the anxiety that she’s somehow going to decide tomorrow to leave him, and just taking her up on the offer to use the condom he bought a month ago. But then--

Then again, he wakes up every morning with the smell of her hair flooding his senses and the warmth of her body pressed to his and the feeling of her nuzzling his chest with her cheek. It’s hard finding the optimism in his own constant sense of pessimism. But the way she feels beside him makes him want to search for it.

Rueki meets him outside his locker one morning with her hands jammed into the pockets of her jeans, chewing on her lip.

“What are you doing?” He asks her in a hushed voice.

“Come on, I’m allowed to talk to you in public.” She rolls her eyes. He doesn’t outright disagree with her, but the beauty of the secret they share is that no one needs to know, no one deserves to know. “Besides, it’s going to look awfully silly when we show up at prom together if we don’t at least publicly converse once or twice.”

“Good luck with that.” He snorts. 

“Are you going to make me ask you to ask me to prom, because I thought we were past that.” She says.

“Shut up.” He growls, slamming his locker shut. She pulls her hands out of her pocket and crosses her arms to her chest. “You said no one needed to know.”

Her face falls. Her face actually crumbles, but like she does, she shakes her hair out and looks up at him like she’s pointedly unbothered, like the second he saw her weak was just a figment of her imagination.

“I said yet, it’s been months.” She insists. “I’m not asking you to marry me, but you could stand not to be embarrassed by holding my damn hand.”

“I’m not…” Not ready for that, not ready to share something so sacred with a world that will surely taint it. “I’m not into dances, I’m not going to prom.”

“Dude…” She trails off, looking so incredulously at him. “Please.” She begs. “You know I love dances.”

“And you know I didn’t go to homecoming.” He reminds her.

“You went to spring fling last year.” She looks up at him with these big, sad eyes that say she knows. She definitely knows. 

“I’m not doing this here.” He rolls his eyes and takes off down the hall, completely leaving her in his wake. She doesn’t chase after him. Why does he wish she would?

They take the bus home together, but she doesn’t offer to share her music, just sits with the buds in her ear, staring blankly ahead.

When they get off, he almost doesn’t follow her home, almost, but at the last second, catches her hand in his and slips his fingers through hers. She stops and looks up at him. 

“I have saved up for months to get a dress, I’m not going to change my mind about this. It’s prom, you’re a Junior, it’s the first prom you can go to. I’m just asking you to go with me.” She says. “Keeping things a secret wasn’t supposed to last forever.”

“It’s not going to last forever!” He snaps, frustration getting the better of him. “Can’t you just be patient.”

“I think more than three months of being together is plenty patient.” She counters, keeping their hands linked but holding her ground more than he expects her to. “When can we tell people, after we’re married?” She scoffs but he flushes, not for the first time overwhelmed in the best and worst of ways at how seriously she takes the way she feels for him.

“No just…” He trails off. “I don’t know, maybe after I’m graduated and--”

“You are a Junior!” She snaps. “Are you embarrassed by me? Is it cuz your friends think I’m a whore?”

“No!” He growls, and almost tells her that no one thinks she’s a whore, but he told her to her face not long ago that that’s what everyone thinks of her. And though he wants to eat the words he wish he never spoke, anger kicks in, digging its nails into his shoulders, shoving him toward the edge. Of course she’d bring that back up, of course she’s been harboring that like ammunition, waiting for an opportune moment to use that against him.

“Then what is the deal?” She asks, with those big, stupid, doe eyes that splay her feelings like intestines across a butcher shop. 

“Have you been tuned the hell out since you met me? I have a shit father, my mom’s dead, my friends have a sucky foster dad, I don’t have the kind of life where I can just go to prom and have a girlfriend and everything be great and normal. You know what’ll happen if I tell the old man I’m trying to take a girl out? He’ll tell me all women are whores and that if I’m going to take you out, he’ll make sure that I don’t get another meal in his house again. Where do you think I’m going to get the money to take you to prom? How do you think this is all going to work in your little world?” He snaps.

“Dude I am not saying I need to meet your dad. I think I’d probably try to fight him if I did, I think it would actually be a terrible idea if I met him. But it’s a really shitty indicator to see if we’re compatible if the only time we act like a couple is when no one is around.” She informs him. 

“I just need more time.” He grits his teeth and apparently squeezes her hand because she jerks it away from him and shakes it off. “And I’m not going to prom.”

“Well I am, I’ve got the time off and if you don’t go that’s not going to deter me.” She says flatly and he thinks yeah right. Especially when she asked him to ask her. 

“Cool.” He snaps.

“Cool!” She hisses and it very clearly is not cool. “We need to figure this out though, I’m not trying to keep secrets just to keep you.”

“No, you just keep your whole life secret from everyone.” He reminds her and she flushes.

“I try to keep the things I hate, secret. I don’t hate you Vani. I like you a lot, I’m so happy I’m with you, you are one of the coolest people I know. I’m not trying to drag you out of your comfort zone cuz I’m an asshole. I just want to be able to kiss you. And hold your hand. And be close to you, other than when we’re at my house.” She makes a move again to squeeze his hand, he leans forward and kisses her, she wraps her arms around his neck and he lets her bask in the kiss like he didn’t look around first and make sure no one they knew was in sight. 

“Just...let me tell Rep and Xion first, okay?” He grumbles, like he has every intention of telling them at the earliest convenience. He watches her light up, so open, so frighteningly genuine, that he wants to sew himself shut to block out the way she energizes him. 

“Sure, just soon...please, Vani?” Why the hell is it when she call him that, his stomach does this big, stupid backflip, but Rep and Xion have called him that for years and he’s always been able to keep his feet on the ground with them? There’s something about the way that she threatens to carry his heart away that scares the hell out of him, even as she leans on him.

“Sure, whatever, can we just go inside?” His eyes flick up to the sky as, for the first time in the season, rain starts to tease the atmosphere, just drizzling enough to be frustrating. He'd prefer the damn snow, if he's being honest. She puts her shoulder into his chest and rolls her eyes before leading her way into the building.

“You’re not sweet enough to melt.” She tells him. He snorts and comes up behind her, just as she’s opening the door to the building and sneaks his hands into her back pockets. Damn, the little gasp she makes. “You are a devious little shit, what kind of girl do you think I am?” She asks, but he can see that she’s blushing into her hairline.

“The kind of girl that’s going to haul ass upstairs.” He says, voice dipping low.

“Your lip ring does things for me…” She concedes, but twists so her eyes flick up to his. “You change your mind about prom, yet?”

Yet? It’s been fifteen seconds.

“No.” He snorts, she grins as he pulls his hands out of her pockets.

“Hmm, sounds like you’ll have to catch me to get into my place, then.” And like that, she takes off into a sprint, moving faster than someone her height, with stubby little legs, should. Vanitas takes a second to respond, but when he does, he guns after her, catching her just before she reaches her door. Competitive nature gets the best of him, adrenaline gets the best of him, he swoops her up into his arms and comes alive only for that obnoxious cackling laughter of hers that fills the hallway. She kicks her legs and squirms in his arms, he puts her down, shoves her into her door and presses his lips down onto hers. She leans up, she locks her arms around his shoulders and pulls him further into her and for a second, for a very brief second, it’s like the entire universe is aligned in the way his mouth meets hers. 

“I have something for you.” She’s still leaning on her toes when she says this against his mouth. He rocks his hips into hers.

“Yeah?” He breathes, feeling her smirk against him.

“Yeah.” From within her coat, she procures something small and shiny. She grabs his hand, puts it into his palm and curls it up. It’s ice cold in his hand when he opens it up and suddenly all the oxygen is drained from the hallway. “If you ever wanna come here when I’m not around, you know?” 

A key. A key, she gave him a damn key to her place, like it’s theirs, like this is his home, like this is the sanctuary that he comes when--

It is, but staring down at the object in his hand makes something dark that he can't quite name, bite into Vanitas’ neck, like a mother lion snatching up her cub by the scruff. 

“Don’t make it weird, you’re here all the time, your dad sucks and I have a job. So like, yeah. Just in case.” She pats his chest, puts her key in the lock and heads inside. He jams the key into his pocket but doesn’t stop feeling the weight of it, even when he sneaks back home, to the hell he knows, before she wakes in the morning.


	10. I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted

10\. I’ve been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted  
 _then you won’t have to cry  
or hide in the closet_

There’s a fist in his hair first thing in the morning. Vanitas’ back hits the concrete floor of the basement. A boot hits his side. He’s struggling for breath before he even opens his eyes.

It’s first thing in the morning. Xehanort doesn’t even reek of booze, just black coffee. 

“You wanna explain why the hell you didn’t come in until three in the morning?” Xehanort hasn’t freed his hair.

“You weren’t up at three in the morning.” Is the feeble defense that Vanitas spews like venom, like somehow, though it’s never worked before, his vitriol can preserve him. 

“Wasn’t until your ungrateful ass came climbing through the damn window.” Xehanort straight up spits in his face and Vanitas flinches, turning into the concrete. “Who the hell were you out with?”

“I wasn’t out with anyone, you’re losing your damn mind.” Vanitas chokes as Xehanort presses his cheek so hard into the concrete that he feels bruises start to spread like an illness beneath his skin. 

“Then why the hell is there fresh mud all over the ground?”

Suddenly every nerve ending in Vanitas’ body goes frostbitten. Spring has recoiled just as it began, his mouth is bone dry. 

He doesn’t even try to speak, Xehanort yanks him forward then slams his face down onto mud that’s still wet and Vanitas--he looks desperately around for his alarm clock. He couldn’t have been asleep very long if it’s still wet, could Rueki have possibly texted him? Could Xehanort have checked his phone and found out where he’s been? A million possibilities are red hot on his too cold skin and the very fear itself sears him. He’s been playing with fire for far too long, what the hell did he expect was going to happen? He wants to remove any and all traces of Rueki from his life, wants to hide in the basement and never break a rule again, wants to do everything that’s ever shot through his mind to convince himself that he is safe and that if he can just be smart, Xehanort can’t possibly hurt him. But that’s not the case. Never before and certainly not now.

Weathered old hands release his hair, Xehanort towers right over him. 

“You can be here straight after school and stay here, or you can find yourself a new home, your choice.” And just like that, Xehanort skulks up the stairs.

Vanitas doesn’t move until he hears the front door slam shut and Xehanort’s rust bucket of a car start in the driveway. 

And then...then he sits in the shower, letting the water pelt him as he watches particles from the mud soak off his face. He can never go back to Rueki’s is his first thought. This is why he can’t go to a stupid dance with her is the second. If she could have been a fly on the wall, if she could realize just how dumb and idealistic she is, that’d be the dose of reality she needs. But he doesn’t want her to experience this, doesn’t want her to be a part of it, wants her and the affection she feels for him to be wrapped up, warm and tight and secure and--

He gets out of the shower, dries off, finds his phone and texts her.

**[ Vanitas ]** the old man caught me sneaking back in...probably should cool it for a little while 

And not go to the prom, but he'll save that one for a later occasion. 

\--

Despite his well planned caution, Xehanort is home when Vanitas gets home and...is drunk. Legitimately slobbering over a bottle on the couch. Vanitas’ hands ball into fists and he wishes he could decide if it is better to have the space from Rueki and her ideals or if he just misses her and hates his father for trapping him here --it's the latter, it's definitely the latter and he hates to admit that. So to avoid said feelings of pathetic vulnerability, he grabs a bag of chips to call dinner and sneaks off to the basement, shutting the door behind him. 

**[ Rueki ]** you okay?

It's like she's counting the seconds until she thinks he's safely home, to text him and why is this so damn endearing when--

**[ Vanitas ]** yeah, old man's dead to the world, I probably could've come over…

**[ Rueki ]** you still can 

**[ Vanitas ]** I don't wanna risk sneaking back in when he's sober…

**[ Rueki ]** I could come over there if you want?

What he wants is space, what he wants is for her to stop being so pushy, what he wants is for her to take her key back --or find some impossible way to convince him she's never gonna leave. Fat chance.

**[ Vanitas ]** it's whatever…

It's actually a test, one Vanitas knows she'll fail. But to his surprise, within minutes, there's a tap at his window and how does she know to come to the window --oh he told her months ago this was how he snuck in, he's already let her in too far and --

“Why are you here?” He demands of Rueki the second he opens the window for her. The careless idiot she is, she slinks right though the window, touching down on the concrete surprisingly quietly. 

“Cuz I'm not dumb and I know what ‘it's whatever’ means.” She deadpans. He rolls his eyes, ignoring the white hot eruption of gratitude in his chest. He suffocates it by closing the window and then the distance between them, taking her face into his hands and kissing her hard. It's overwhelming, the way she shifts beneath him and twines her arms around his waist before he pulls away and plops down on the bed. She follows suit.

“Well it's a lot bigger pain in the ass to sneak out that window than it is to come in.” He warns her, like that'll be the final straw that sends her running. 

“Then I’ll just sleep here tonight.” She offers. “Think your shitty dad is gonna come down here?”

“Not likely.” Vanitas sneers. “The rate he’s at, he’ll have pissed himself and be passed out in an hour.” 

“Then just let me borrow something to sleep in, I’ll sneak back out in the morning, future Rueki can deal with that.” She replies with this aching reassurance that feels so steadfast and solid around him. 

“You’d really stay here?” He looks around at the concrete walls and while her place is no palace, it’s a mansion compared to this cold, dank room he’s in. 

“For as long as it takes for him to forget about you sneaking out.” She shrugs, like it’s not monumental, like she’s not metaphorically offering him the world. What the hell is she doing to his heart and his head where he’s losing himself in the unadulterated sweetness of all that this is? 

“Why?” He asks dryly, like there’s nothing she could possibly say that might satisfy. She just smirks.

“Because I love you.” 

His insides downright drop out of him.

He doesn’t know how long it has been since someone has said that to him. He doesn’t know if anyone ever has said that to him, but abruptly he’s out of bed, rummaging through drawers, unable to look at her face, unable to do anything but contemplate the weight of her words, of her feelings as they cloud his senses in a sparkling haze.

“How do you--how can you know that?” What kind of human is this, that can make him so undeniably speechless with a smirk on her lips. He turns back around with one of his shirts in his hand, she’s tucked herself beneath his blankets.

“Because I do.” She offers. “I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me, I want to figure life out with you, I want to deal with the hard moments like this with you, I want to be there for you and you’re the only one I want to be there with me. I’d dance with you or cry with you, I want you to know everything I am, I want you to have everything I have and then more.”

“And that’s how you’d define it?” He asks, with skepticism woven through his words. He can’t process what she’s saying, because the fact that someone could be so resolute, so resolved about him just feels--

Impossible.

“Well how would you?” She asks.

“I don’t know…” He spits, wanting desperately to clamp up, wanting to shut her out, wanting to sit with the realization and the feelings until something makes sense in his mind, but it doesn’t and for whatever frustrating reason, he looks at her face and doesn’t want to let her down. He doesn’t want her to feel so deeply alone the way he has. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“Not your p--” She’s going to say parents, but she cuts herself off. “Not Ventus?”

“No.” Vanitas says, quite firmly.

“Not even your friends?” She prods. 

“We’re not saps like you and yours are.” He snarks.

“Okay…” She just says, like she’s trying to come to terms with the weight of all of this, too. 

“Okay what?” He asks.

“I already told you, everything at your pace.” She tries.

“Except us having a public relationship.” He frowns, she glares up at him.

“What I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to say it back unless you feel it, I’m really not interested in bullshit.” She just says, and that’s all good and well, he wouldn't say it if he didn’t, he isn’t like that, but there’s a problem like a neon sign in his face. 

“But everything you said...I feel too.” He chokes out, like he’s never had a harder time spitting anything out. “I mean, I wouldn’t dance with you or anything but--”

“Omigod, get down here.” She rolls her eyes and he sits down on the bed with her, handing her his shirt because he has no idea what the hell else to do. She takes it out of his hands and leans forward to kiss him. 

“You’re kissing me when I’m not saying it back?” He whispers against her mouth then feels her smile into his lips.

“If you feel the same feelings I do, but don’t use the same words to define it, then that’s fine, man. I’m not scared by your trauma response.” She teases. He nearly groans.

“You’re obnoxious.” He mutters.

“But you like me.” She singsongs.

“Yeah…” He mutters, voice dipping low, like the confession is embarrassing. “A lot. As much as you like me.” Screw her and her trauma response comment. 

“Then that’s good.” She says, pulling away to toss her shirt off over her head. She’s wearing one of those bralettes like she usually does, but then she pulls his shirt on and works out of her jeans beneath the covers so he’s not exposed to her body but--

But he loses track of all cognitive thought, seeing her wearing his T-shirt. Oh, dammit, his face is warm, he’s got to remember to breathe.

“What?” She asks, immediately sensing the shift, like she does. So perceptive it's annoying.

“Nothing.” He mutters, looking away.

“Dude!” She protests.

“Could you stand up?” He asks. When he looks back at her, her eyebrows have shot up to her hairline, but after a moment of stillness, she stands, tossing her jeans onto the floor and dammit. The way his shirt brushes the top of her thighs, the way it dwarves her, the way it looks so comfortable and just so right to see her wear his clothes could break him. She watches his face and catches on so quick it’s annoying.

“Really?” She asks.

“Shut up.” He mutters.

“What are you shy for?” She teases and then climbs back onto to the bed, setting hands down on either side of him, leaning in so their noses bump. “Do you like me wearing your clothes, Vani?”

“Screw you.” Which means yes. She giggles.

“Do you wanna take them off of me?” She breathes and his entire body zings, becoming one electric nerve ending. 

Oh she’s going to break him. She’s going to break him clean in two.

“Yes.” He husks, so she settles in, straddling his lap. His jeans are starting to feel tight, but his fingers brush over the hemline of his T-shirt on her thighs. She raises her arms above her head, he tosses the shirt to the ground and grips her waist, staring at her half naked body, at the redness of her scar, at the curves in her waist and hips. His hands touch the lace of her bralette. “I think I want to take this off too.”

“Then stop waiting and do it.” She breathes, oh hell, that’s all the permission he needs. He twists her so that her back hits his bed and he can hover over her, and then, watching her wild eyed, breathless expression, he pulls the bralette over her head. It hits the ground with the rest of her discarded clothes, he throws his own shirt aside and presses himself down onto her, lips meeting hers hungrily. 

The only thing separating them is the rest of his clothes and her panties and if he doesn’t get out of these jeans soon, they’re gonna take on a strangling sensation.

Her lips are as soft as the rest of her body, moving and melding to him as she kisses him back, teasing his mouth with her tongue as he demands everything of hers, sucking on her lips, biting them, trying to devour her mouth entirely. One of his hands reaches down between the two of them, curious, eager. He brushes her through her panties and she pulls away from his lips to curse and whisper his name against his skin.

“Take off my pants.” He demands of her, rasping against her mouth. Her pupils are massive when they part and he stares down at her amazed that the blackness of her own lust is on the brink of consuming her too.

“You wanna do this?” She asks and he nods, grinding his forehead into hers. “Because I wore your shirt?” Her voice is this saccharine lilt as she works at the button of his jeans, hands between the two of them. She tugs down the zipper and yanks them down his hips and there’s so little clothing between the two of them that it could set him to combust. 

“Because you’ve never looked prettier than when you look like you belong to me.” And he doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not because it’s not like he hasn’t noticed that Rueki is pretty, but pretty is not what appeals about her to him. Pretty is not the reason he lo--

She shivers, sucks in a breath, grips his hips for dear life.

“Good?” He asks and she nods.

“Yeah, I think I want you to shit talk the hell out of me.” She slides her hands up his abdomen and if he’s being honest, with the way she’s touching him, he would do anything for her. Instead, he goes down to bite her neck hard enough for her to whimper. Oh those damn noises she makes, he’s not going to be able to--

“Dude, put some clothes o--”

Vanitas goes abruptly still. He can hear his heart thundering in his chest. That voice does not belong here, no one belongs here, no one--

He twists, face beat red, Rueki still splayed beneath him, toward the stairs, which Rep stands at the top of, with a very clear view of his bed and the girl inside it.


	11. a dwindling mercurial high

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally done editing and I don't think there's a single chapter left that I'm not excited about. Hope you guys continue to enjoy the ride

11\. a dwindling, mercurial high  
 _look at this idiotic fool that you made me  
you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else_

The world is ending inside of Hearts diner and Vanitas is the only casualty.

Xion and Rep sit on the opposite side of their usual booth, with the type of stares that belong in interrogation rooms. 

Vanitas sips on a soda for something to do and can’t decide if he’s thankful or not that Rueki is’t working after school today. This whole ordeal would feel life threatening regardless of whether she was sitting next to him through this or not. It’s not like her warmth would ease the sting--but without it, he’s desperate for it.

“Are you really not going to say anything?” Rep demands and Vanitas shrugs, keeping his lips on the straw and his eyes trained out the window. “Nothing about the naked girl in your bed last night?”

“She wasn’t naked.” Not entirely.

“Sorry, topless, my bad.” But Rep isn’t really sorry, not at all and it’s very clear he thinks Vanitas should be.

“When did you and Rueki even become friends?” Xion is chewing on her lip and it has none of the same effect that it does when Rueki does it, and shit, he wants nothing more than to scrub her out of his mind for this conversation. But how can he when he has no idea if she’s using this as an excuse to tell Kairi? If she’ll break things off tonight because things aren’t so perfectly secretive anymore? Not that she gave him an inclination that she would, quite the opposite, but with her so far in distance, he trusts Rueki's resolve less by the second.

“I dunno.” Because truly, Vanitas doesn’t know when that girl began to fill the cracks of all that he is, he just knows that even though it’s stupid and won’t make a difference, he really wishes she were here.

“Well how long has she been your girlfriend?” Rep demands, a fire burns inside of Vanitas.

“Are you jealous?” He bites, but Rep flat out laughs.

“Namine gave me a hug on New Year’s Eve, not like you’d know because you were busy screwing your secret girlfriend.” Oh wow, a hug, someone give Rep a trophy for getting a hug from a girl with a boyfriend who has no romantic inclinations toward him. What a winner.

“We’re not screwing and she’s not my secret girlfriend.” Vanitas rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, cuz you weren’t about to hook up when I walked into your room.” Rep counters.

“Which, to that point, do you not knock?” Vanitas snaps.

“We are not talking about knocking or who is having sex and who isn’t!” Xion huffs. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell us that you were hanging out with her? Or that you guys started dating? Didn’t you know we’d be happy for you?”

“Right, this is a happy for me conversation.” Vanitas snarks back, and Xion’s cheeks puff right out as she wrinkles her nose.

“That has everything to do with hiding girlfriends from people who are supposed to be your best friends.” Xion crosses her arms to her chest, settling a little further back into the booth. 

“Well, she’s not my girlfriend, so it doesn’t matter.” Not really, at least not formally. It’s not like she’s not, but she’s not so explicitly. 

“Then you guys are just hooking up?” Rep asks.

“We’re not hooking up.” Vanitas snaps.

“Then what are you doing, Vani, because you shouldn’t mess around with someone’s heart, even if she is older.” Xion insists.

“And rich.” Rep mumbles.

“She’s not rich.” Vanitas scrubs a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up in his chest. This might be the single dumbest conversation he’s been subjected to. Wow, he’s a shithead for not telling his friends about a relationship he has that doesn’t involve them, what a great revelation. 

“Then how can she afford to live alone?” Rep counters, like he oh so smugly knows better.

“Cuz she sold her parents house after they died!” Vanitas slaps a hand onto the table, soda spills over and so do his grievances. He wants to take the words he spit so carelessly and shovel them back into his mouth, Rueki is going to murder him. He realizes he’s never seen her right and truly pissed, the prospect makes him want to vomit. “Shit, forget I said anything.” He shakes his head.

“Her parents are…” Xion trails off.

“How can anyone forget that kind of bomb going off?” Rep asks.

“It makes so much sense, the fact that she picks up so many extra shifts, of course she needs the extra money, omigod.” Xion breathes.

“Could we not?” Vanitas groans.

“That’s a big deal, dude, you can’t just pretend you never said that!” Rep complains. “You have a secret girlfriend and her parents are dead and no one in town knows a damn thing about her except you and now you want to act like we can’t either?”

“She doesn’t want people to know, okay? She doesn’t want people pitying her, do you?” Vanitas snaps.

“I don’t care what people have to think or say that’s their opinion about me, not mine.” Rep jabs a thumb to his chest, but Xion looks down at the table.

“I don’t think I’d want anyone thinking different of me because of...things.” Xion shakes her head. “But I don’t understand why you hid this from us.”

“It just kind of happened.” Vanitas finally concedes. “I couldn’t find you guys at the homecoming party but I found Ven and Hayner making out and she took me to the pool house and got me drunk and didn’t make me talk about it. Everytime Xehanort wants to put my face into something, she seems to be out and about, she lives right at Destiny Plaza, so sometimes I stayed the night at her place instead of dealing with him. She knows about my stuff, I know about hers, and it just kind of happened. And we went from not really even talking, to kissing.”

“When?” Xion asks. Oh hell.

“New Years Eve.” Vanitas sucks in a breath and waits for the incredulous look. Xion’s stony silence is worse.

“You hid this from us for four months?” Rep balks.

“We hid it from everyone, okay? I just didn’t wanna deal with this.” He waves his hand between the two of them. “She’s the only thing that--” He doesn’t know where he’s going with that, but neither Rep nor Xion look like they even care for him to finish that statement.

He throws enough money for his soda on the table, gathers up his backpack, walks out and doesn’t look back.

\--

“How did it go?” Rueki is waiting for him in her bed, books splayed out in front of her for some sort of project or other. In lounge clothes and a bun she looks so damn vulnerable and he doesn’t know why he thinks this, but is certain it has to do with the truth that he spilled so carelessly to his friends when he made her promise not to share his secrets. He locks the door behind him, throws his bag down on the ground and snorts.

“They can kick rocks.” Vanitas rolls his eyes. 

“Yikes.” She chews her lip then starts moving books off the bed. “Come here.” She pats the spot in front of her and right away he doesn’t want to follow orders. He wants to take ten steps out the door because she’s not going to want to hold him or sit by him when she finds out what he’s done. 

But like he’s done a thousand times over, he drags his feet across the floorboards of a floor he’s too afraid to cross. Rueki’s not going to hit him, she might scream at him, but he’s taller than her, he’s bigger than her, hes stronger than her. He’s everything he tells himself will make a difference against Xehanort then never does. 

He sinks down at the edge of her bed and she instantly pulls him in, wrapping arms around his shoulders. She kisses his temple so gently. She’s going to hate him forever.

“On the plus side, Kairi’s really supportive.” She offers and he tears away from her.

“What the hell did you tell her for?” He snaps and her eyes fly wide.

“You can tell your friends but I can’t tell mine?” She snorts.

“Your friend didn’t walk in on us about to have sex!” He chokes. “Who the hell else did you tell?”

“Omigod, calm the hell down. I just told Kairi, do you think I really tell a lot of other people a lot of things about my life?” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, if your friends know, then what the hell else does it matter if anyone else knows? Now we can go to prom together, now we can act like an actual couple.” 

“No one ever said we were an actual couple.” He slams a hand down on the bed, her eyes flash.

“Right, cuz we’re just two people making out and sharing a bed and hopes and dreams and secrets. Planning a future, right, you don’t do that in a couple, silly me.” She’s so fucking dry, his instincts scream he reach out and slap her, but instead he balls his fists in her sheets.

“We never agreed to this.” He grumbles.

“Guess not.” She meets him with thunder in her stare, shakes her head and looks out the window. “I want to be your girlfriend, I wouldn’t have gone this far with anything if I didn’t think you were on the same page as me, I wouldn’t have told you I loved you, I certainly wouldn’t have been down to have sex with you.”

“Oh what does it matter, you’ve done it before.” He barks, and once again wants to take the words and shovel them back into his mouth because of the way her face goes bright red.

“Fuck you.” She spits. 

“Well you have!” He insists. “I have to deal with my dad, you think I can deal with him and have a girlfriend? You wanna come to family Christmas with the bastard next year? Wanna give me a ride home when he puts me in the ER next? I can’t be with someone and deal with him, if he doesn’t bust my ass over dating some girl that lives at Destiny Plaza, then he’s gonna--” Xehanort will surely do something so terrible that Rueki leaves Vanitas, there’s not a doubt in his mind.

“Thanks for taking me super serious when I told you the way I feel about you isn’t fragile, you can see yourself out.” She starts loading books up onto the bed, he can quite clearly see her eyes as they start to get glossy and he wants to scream, he wants to grab her by the shoulders and find the words to convince her that it’s not just better this way, it’s the only way.

Maybe they’re nothing alike, maybe she is just a damn tourist, maybe he should’ve known better than to think anyone could meet him in the trenches.

But he stands, with shaking shoulders and an aching chest, with no idea what to do with the pain that seems to pump into him in waves.

“I told Rep and Xion that your parents were dead.”

She finally looks at him, lips parted, face flushed. The tears start to fall, she sucks in a breath.

“You can leave your key on the table.” She tells him, his heart stops.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks.

“Were we even a couple?” She demands. “We can talk about it later, but I can’t be around you right now.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He roars. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Can’t you please just leave before I say anything I’m going to regret?” She asks.

“Well what do you want to say?” He snaps. “Say it to my damn face, Rueki!”

“I want to tell you I hate you and of course I’m breaking up with you, you ruined everything that was supposed to be good! But I’m not trying to be a rash asshole like you!” She screams, voice shattering as it comes down.

He looks her right in the eyes, breath becomes harder than ever, he wants to disappear into a bottle of champagne, he wants to disappear into the warmth and safety she used to offer, he wants to go back in time and kick her out of the basement so Rep can never find out about them and they can linger in the subtle discomfort of an impasse. 

But how could he have expected anything less than this?

“Fuck you.” He tells her as he drops his key on the table, picks his bag up and walks right out the door.


	12. your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym

12\. your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym  
 _I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that  
plus I saw you dance with him_

It’s honestly not a big deal when Rueki breezes straight past him every single day for the next few weeks. Really, it doesn't bug him. If she wants to throw a full grown temper tantrum, she can throw her tantrum. It doesn’t bother him, Vanitas doesn’t care.

“You and your secret girlfriend are trying a little too hard to pretend you’re not in love.” Rep tells him, back to the locker beside Vanitas’ as he grabs books for classes he can’t even manage to pretend he cares about anymore. Not because he waits at his phone like he’s waiting for a medical diagnosis, all hitched breath and hammering heart. Certainly not. It has nothing to do with Rueki, she can be a brat, he doesn’t care.

“Well we broke up, that’d be why.” He mutters.

“I thought she wasn’t your girlfriend.” Rep sticks an elbow into his arm, but then his mouth twists. “That’s shit man, on the plus side, I think Hayner and Ventus broke up cuz Hayner is going to the prom with Fuu.” 

Vanitas doesn’t really care about what Ventus is doing or who Ventus is dating when Ventus knew his mother died last year, broke up with him anyway and hasn’t said a word to him this year. When Vanitas thinks about soft lips and blond hair, he doesn’t think twice about Ventus, and it all feels like it’s just gotten so far so fast but he--

He’s not waiting on Rueki to ask him to come back. He’s not waiting to hear that she loves him again. He’s really not. 

“You got up from the diner and left us there because you didn’t think we were supportive enough.” Xion pipes up from beside him.

“That wasn’t why.” Vanitas replies, though it certainly was. 

“Why did you guys break up?” Xion asks, Vanitas just sneers.

“Cuz she’s stupid. Thinks we can have this cute, normal relationship like my dad’s not a bastard and her secrets can stay hidden but mine can’t. She told Kairi we were together.” He mutters.

“And she told Kairi about your dad?” Xion’s eyebrows raise. 

“No, of course not.” Vanitas snorts. “She wouldn’t do that.” 

“Well what did she tell Kairi?” Xion asks.

“She told her we were together.” Vanitas mutters.

“I’m confused, were you together or not?” Xion shakes her head.

“I mean yeah, but she didn’t need to put it in such explicit terms, do I really look like I have a normal enough life to be someone’s boyfriend?” He scoffs. By time he looks at Xion again, she’s staring up at him with her jaw hanging and her eyes huge. She looks like a cartoon character.

“You are the biggest, dumbest idiot in the world.” She just groans before striding ahead of them, picking holes into her tights as she walks. 

“What’s her problem?” Vanitas wrinkles his nose.

“Her problem is stop being a little bitch.” Rep groans. “If you like this girl, stop doing it half way.”

“Right, you want me to hit stalker status like you have with Namine?” Vanitas lifts an eyebrow.

“I like Nam, and I haven’t lived with her or sucked face with her like you have with Rueki.” Rep insists. “But if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t let something like my shitty dad get in the way of it.”

“You really just don’t get it and clearly neither did she.” Vanitas grumbles.

“I get that there was something about frozen peas and she gave you a safe place to hang out and you seemed really defensive of her and if she’s letting you take off her clothes, for whatever reason she’s really dumb and likes you too.” Rep says. Vanitas doesn’t tell him that Rueki actually loves him. He sure doesn’t mention that he very well might feel the same. 

“Things didn’t end great, I’m gonna have to do something big to change her mind.” Vanitas mutters.

“Show up at her place with a boom box playing your guys’ song.” Rep offers, Vanitas cringes.

“We don’t have a song and I don’t have a boombox and I’m not a damn cliche.” Nevermind the fact that Rueki would probably call him an idiot and tell him to get wrecked if he did that. 

“Well, show up at prom or something. I can ask Nam to ask Kairi what color Rueki’s dress is, show up with one of those flower wrist things that matches her dress.” Flower wrist things, Rep thinks he’s going to show up with a corsage, to the damn prom all because--

Vanitas groans, loudly.

“Bad idea?” Rep asks.

“No, it’s perfect.” That might be worse. 

\--

So he shows up. 

Prom tickets are expensive and he has to do way too much weeding for Mrs. Mouse and her husband across the street in order to even afford a ticket. Rueki’s dress is black though, and a black rose corsage is also not cheap. Since last year he has outgrown the dress pants he wore to spring fling and has to make up a bullshit story to Xehanort about having a job interview to get dress pants, which means he actually needs to get his ass a job otherwise said ass is grass. 

He never remembers if he’s supposed to button the very top button of his dress shirt, and he has to GummiTube how to tie a tie, he feels like a child playing dress up for Halloween, but he shows up.

Apparently the prom theme is a ‘Kingdom of Hearts’, because the tacky decorations that are trying way too hard to be fancy look like a disorganized combination of monarchy but also paper hearts. Probably reused decorations from the Homecoming and the underclassmen’s Spring Fling. 

But he shows up. And it’s so crowded in the damn banquet hall Radiant Garden High School hosts their prom in every year, but his eyes scan desperately through the sea of people, for her. 

“Don’t even bother with the food, I guess it tastes like shit every year.” Rep offers, though to be honest food was the last thing he was thinking about devouring tonight, when he’s desperately missed the lips of his not-but kind of-but definitely girlfriend. 

The music being played in the area for dancing is so downright tragic that Vanitas is instantly reminded of looking over at Rueki’s phone, judging her taste in music--and immediately finding songs he liked when she offered him her phone. He’s reminded of the closeness of her hips beside his on the bus seat, of the smell of her hair and how that scent seems to wash over everything she touches. Of the damn frozen peas.

Of the way she dances to Christmas music and the way she spent smoke breaks letting him devour her against the back of the diner.

Oh, he has got to make this work.

With Xion and Rep settling in to a table, Vanitas cuts through, toward the dancing area, because if he knows Rueki, she’s already kicked off her shoes and has started dancing. Probably on her own, possibly with Kairi. He searches the crowd but blondes wearing black are a dime a dozen. He even sees Ventus in a black tux, realizes that Ventus is heading toward the tables, but not much beyond that and then--

Then he sees her and wonders how he possibly couldn’t have right away.

Her hair is curled, parted down the middle and the part looks like it’s stained with rainbow glitter. Her dress is simple--long and black with a plunging neckline and no back--but she looks pretty. Not that she doesn’t always, but when he’s not focused on the way she makes him feel--which is hard not to be--he can understand why other people talk about her. Why other people might want her, why she could end up with someone totally normal and not downright contagious with personal baggage the way he is. He almost takes off running because what the hell is he doing, but then, something stops him in his tracks. Someone approaches her, she smiles and he doesn’t think Rueki’s ever smiled at him like that before. He can’t put a finger on if it’s good or bad, just different. The song changes, her face lights up, Vanitas cranes, trying to see who she’s talking to through the crowd, but doesn’t until Rueki nods and wraps her arms around this person.

It’s a slow song, he knows it because she loves it, because she danced in her kitchen to it and he tried so hard not to focus on the muscles in her legs or the sway of her hips. 

And now she’s dancing with Roxas Golde to it. Roxas, with his damn nihilism and sharp cheekbones that ‘do things’ for her. 

What the hell did Vanitas ever think he was going to do? How did he ever think she was holding her breath on him the very same way he was for her? His insides feel like they’re going to fall out. Someone touches his shoulder, and with wounded eyes, he sees Ven standing in front of him. There’s a pimple on his forehead that he’s trying to cover with bangs and Vanitas wonders when the halo of stardust left Ven’s persona, but he swears he sees it now around Rueki. Rueki who is dancing with his ex’s twin brother. Rueki, who wanted something ‘real’ but not something as real as him and has certainly decided to settle in with someone angry at nothing and that’s why she hasn’t closed the distance he forced between them those weeks ago.

“Are you...okay?” Ventus asks, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from a different planet. Rueki is laughing, it’s like Vanitas is at that end of the summer party again, watching a barrier form between himself and the one he wants. The only one he wants.

The one who won’t even look twice at him.

“Fine.” Vanitas says, though he realizes he hardly sounds it and doesn’t look at Ven.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Ven admits, and once again, his sweet little heart is just too careless, he doesn’t realize how far away from him Vanitas really is. 

“Yeah.” Vanitas just says, watching Roxas spin Rueki. He spins her and suddenly Rueki’s head turns. Her mouth parts, she stops moving--apparently leading Roxas like she did with him--and stares right at him.

“Well do you want to maybe--” Vanitas cuts Ventus off by grabbing the blond boy by the collar of his shirt and dragging him forward, smashing their mouths together, his eyes still locked straight onto Rueki. He watches her. Watches the way she separates from Roxas, watches the way she pats his arm, watches the way she takes off running, snatching Kairi up by the arm, to head toward the bathroom. “Jeez, what was that about?” Ventus gasps as Vanitas lets him free. 

The kiss tastes about as satisfying as a blank sheet of paper. And Vanitas is just as empty as one.

“What a waste of money.” And just like that, he stalks back out the front doors, listening to some concerned parent chaperone tell him that once he exits, he can’t come back in, like any of that matters. 

The only thing that could possibly matter is if Rueki were to try to get ahold of him, try to call him, try to text him, try to anything.

She doesn’t, so instead of going home, he goes to her place and sits outside the front door, waiting for her to come home. 

She never does.


	13. I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello kids and welcome to an experimentally written chapter.  
> You know how we've been doing a thing where we're following Vanitas and his mental process? This chapter is different. While told from second person, I want to make it clear, this is Rueki's perspective. Which I wasn't necessarily planning to incorporate at all since I wrote a whole damn series from her point of view, but what can I say, I miss being in my girl's head.  
> Hope you enjoy!

13\. I knew I'd curse you for the longest time  
_stepping on the last train  
marked me like a blood stain_

You’ve got a hole in your chest that is different from anything you’ve ever felt before.

You cry in Kairi’s bed and try to kiss her. She has the good sense to hug you tight and tell you that kissing her won’t solve anything. But that’s why you’re best friends with Kairi. She’s got worlds more good sense than you’ve ever been able to muster.

Losing mom and dad was one thing, one terrible thing. The ache of looking at belongings and reminiscing and knowing full well that you can no longer make memories with the people attached to them, that you can’t even hug them or hear their voice outside of recordings, was the stuff of nightmares. It was the very reason you contacted a realtor at sixteen and got the hell out of a house that phantoms of kindness you’d never know again, roamed freely through. 

But it’s...it’s different when the person you can’t make memories with lives only a block away, rides the same bus, attends the same school, frequents the diner you work in with friends that only recently found out that you were his best kept secret.

And it’s not like you didn't love the little secret in the beginning. It felt like childhood, like fresh nostalgia ‘cross my heart and hope to die’. But you haven’t felt like a child in over a year now and apparently he still is, but that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that unlike belongings with reminiscent agony, you scrub your body in Kairi’s shower and wonder if there’s a part you cannot think of him touching. Your hips, when you sat too close together because you’re pear shaped on a good day. Your lips, your teeth, your tongue, your face, your waist, your shoulders, your arms. You want to scrape the tattoo clean off your foot because you don’t want to think of sitting in the orchestra pit with him when you had Drama class together, or sneaking off to make out in it once the semester was up.

You’re sure he’s got a shirt or two at your place. You know you bought snacks with him in mind.

And it’s not like you’ve never broken up with someone, but that’s the thing about being you, is you’ve never let yourself fall this hard. Not like this, not for anyone else. You fuck your friends because it’s better to lose your virginity to someone you ‘trust’, but really you just don’t want to cry when you love someone and give them everything and they leave you. You avoid anything that means something, because you cannot handle the rejection of someone looking you in the eye and telling you that what is in your heart just flat out isn’t enough.

You can scrub your body for days, but you can’t scrub away the image of him looking you straight in the eye, sending your hopes into the sky, and kissing his ex right on the mouth. The ex that didn’t give him the time of the day until the prom.

When you see him on the bus the following Monday, you’re distinctly aware that he sees you, but it doesn’t matter. You’re a senior, he’s a junior, you have three more weeks left of school and then you don’t have to look at him again. You’ll ask Cid for morning shifts at Hearts so you don’t have to deal with the after school rush--and Cid will give them to you, he adores you--you won’t walk past Vanitas’ house again. Not even if you want to, not even if your heart is begging you to check in on him because if you don’t, who is going to make sure to? Who is going to love him as hard as you if you don’t? That’s the question that has your heart skipping beats on the bus ride back home.

You pull cigarettes out of your bag, a pack Kairi’s older cousin Reno bought for you probably because he pities you. You walk so fast, Vanitas couldn’t catch you if he tried, and try he does. He’s constantly blowing up your phone. So much so that you forced yourself to block his number and not reminisce over messages sent while dating. 

Everything now is going through the motions, it’s self care for future Rueki because present Rueki feels so much like she’s going to combust, she can’t even fathom climbing out from the depths she is drowning in.

The weather in Radiant Garden has warmed pleasantly, so you walk to Hearts after school, tying your hair up in a bun, headphones dangling lacklusterly around your neck. You don’t hear the sounds of music anymore, just the words, the way they slip beneath your fingernails, down past your skin, understanding the every thought that races through your head in ways that you are too afraid to decipher. You get to work, you clock in, you slip an apron over your head and remind yourself that you have something like one hundred days before you go away to college, before your lease starts in the much nicer, rustic looking apartment that costs about the same as your shithole apartment in Radiant Garden. You’ll have a car in a few weeks time, you’ve been saving up. You count these accomplishments, these sweet little instances like they’re the only thing getting you up in the morning.

“You’ve got a table waiting.” Cid tells you. You flash him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and head out in the direction he pointed you in.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You choke out when golden eyes meet yours.

“I just want to talk.” Vanitas sits on his own, his forearms in the early spring sun filtering through the window glitter with white, thick scars your fingers had become too familiar with in previous months.

“Get wrecked.” You tell him. 

“You won’t return my calls.” He glares up at you.

“Oh, you called? Wouldn’t know, I blocked your number.” You snap, pressing your lips together until you feel them wrinkle. 

“I slept outside your apartment after prom.” He says like that means a single thing.

“I slept in Kairi’s room, you know, bawling my eyes out because you’re hot garbage.”

“You cried…” He rolls over the weight of the words in his mouth like they shouldn’t be possible, like you’re affirming the existence of ghosts, which is about right because you feel like one.

“What did you think was going to happen?” You ask, because you know this boy, you know that you can stand off against each other for days, mean as hell, stubborn into your bones, but there’s one thing he will never rival you at, and that is splaying your feelings like messy innards across a cutting board. 

“I didn’t think you’d be dancing with Roxas!” He barks. “Are you with him now?”

“I’m not with Roxas.” You groan.

“So you’re just sleeping with him?” He scoffs.

“I danced with him once! Not even for a full song, we just like a lot of the same music. I went as a big group with Kairi and her friends, I danced with her too, is there anyone else you want to kiss just to hurt me, because you’re on a real streak man, I’d hate to cut you off.” You snap.

“Look--” He chokes, probably because he didn’t think he’d get this far, probably because Vanitas is emotionally constipated on a level most humans are not and never could have fathomed that you would possibly have told him point blank, what he made you feel. This was never going to be a high school love story, this was never going to be your dream come true. This is not something that someone like either of you, with clumsy hands could put back together. “Can you just get me a water and we’ll talk after your shift?”

“I’ll get you a water.” You lean over and grab a water that a customer has left unattended at the following table. They yell at you in protest and you toss the water, ice cubes and all into Vanitas’ stupid face.

“Rueki!” You hear Cid shout from behind the counter. “You’re fired!”

“I know!” You yank your apron off and go storming into the back. You get as far as hanging it up when Cid grabs your shoulder. 

“You’re not fired.” He tells you quickly, your adrenaline is pumping violently in your ears, taking on a heartbeat all its own. 

“I’m not?” You murmur. 

“C’mon kid, you’re a good employee.” Cid tells you, your hands still shake. “That kid your boyfriend?”

“My ex.” You murmur.

“What’d he do?” Cid asks.

“Kissed his ex at prom.” You mumble.

“Ouch.” Cid heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “Teenagers, you’re all the scourge of this world, arentcha?” 

“Basically.” You concede.

“Well, cry it out back here. His free cheese fries are coming outta your paycheck, and when he’s gone you gotta get back to work.” Cid orders. 

“Sure, totally.” You nod. 

“And kid?” Cid asks. “Don’t let this happen again.”

\--

When you get onto the bus after work, the only available seat is at the back of the bus, right next to a glowering face that you want nothing to do with. You fix your mouth into a pout and grab onto the safety bar toward the back of the bus, tragically near him but you know there are more stops, more people will get on the bus before you get off of it and you’re trying not to be an asshole, really you’re not.

You’re short, the bus jerks you and you barely manage to hang on. 

“Just sit down.” You hear Vanitas mutter. You cast a glare over your shoulder then return your eyes forward.

The bus jerks you again, your grip is torn away and you go tumbling backwards, straight into Vanitas’ lap. All of your nerve endings scream, he’s so solid, the shape of his body is one carefully engraved into your memory and no amount of time or distance will ever be able to resurface your thoughts. You try to get up, but crash twice as hard into him and have to physically resist the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“There’s a seat next to me.” His voice sends goosebumps all across your skin, you’d rip it straight off if it would prevent you from eliciting a reaction. 

You climb off of Vanitas just long enough to take the seat next to him. Your cheeks burn but your pride is in even worse shape. Frankly, it’s really just rude for the universe to orchestrate a scenario like this where you are actually forced to talk to him, to close distance that you’re not ready to remove from him.

“I thought you moved on.” He murmurs.

“Just stop.” You shake your head.

“You broke up with me.” He reminds you and you snort. 

“I wouldn’t have if you didn’t literally force it out of me. I told you I didn’t want to say anything rash, and even if I did break up with you, you had to make it worse on both of us. And then you had to drag Ventus into this. Why should I give you even a second worth of my time? Why should I even let you speak?” You bark, hands forming tight fists in your lap.

“Because I’m sorry.” He spits the words like taboo, but just like love you wonder if you are all he knows of apologies and find that it matters very little. The empathy you feel for him has never resorted to pity and neither will your far scorned love. 

“I’m sorry I ever let you into my place, so I guess that makes two of us.” You cross your arms to your chest, shoulders curling in, trying to avoid contact with him, trying to avoid the temptation of his sturdy body against yours. 

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He glares at you, you see it through the pieces of hair that hang in your eyes. You hate that your stupid heart sputters, but you’re only seventeen and you’ve only ever loved him this hard.

You wish so bad the person you hated was not the person you wanted to hold, you wish there was someone who could tell you what to do when those things lined up like they are now.

“I can’t be with someone who is going to take the cruelest shots they can at my heart just because they think it’ll mean they win.” You say flatly. There's no room to budge, no room to compromise, no room for him.

“Well I don’t know what you want from me.” He mutters, so you laugh this cruel, cutting, humorless noise.

“I wanted you to have the girlfriend talk with me early on, I wanted you to not call me a slut because I didn’t show up to class to do a scene together, I wanted you to not spill my personal life to your friends because if I was actually your girlfriend that damn conversation might have come up with them on my terms, organically. Somehow I managed to tell Kairi I was in love with you without telling her about your shitty dad.” You snap.

“Right, let me grab my damn time machine and go back and change all of that.” He snorts.

“This isn’t what I want. I know the way I felt about you wasn’t fragile, I didn’t know the way you felt about me was.” Your voice dies down as the bus creaks to your stop, you spring up, throwing yourself out the doors, and without even a hint of a shock, he follows right after you. 

“I’m sorry!” He shouts.

“Cool, go home.” You wave a hand at him. 

“Please, I...shit!” He curses, sprinting after you and then in front of you, cornering you like he’s going to hurt you, like he’s going to slug you right in the face. You go rigid, reminded instantly of the way he cornered you against your locker, and the words he said to you. Of the way you let him in and the way you won’t do that again. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to fight with you, I hate what I did and I feel like shit about it every day.”

“Sorry that your conscience is guilty, but if you keep acting like a dick, you’re gonna be lugging a lot more guilt around.” You reply, cold--defensive, scared, aching so bad like a rotted tooth and it’s going to your brain.

“It’s not about me, it’s about the way I hurt you. And how I felt when I thought I lost you...how I feel now that I actually have… I um…” He shakes his head, lets up and starts to leave. “No, this is dumb.” And then he starts off, muttering to himself, shoulders as rigid as your entire body. He throws his hands up, shakes his head, stops, starts, stops again, starts again then stops and turns to you. “I love you.” 

Everything inside of you falls out and something new entirely fills you back up, reanimating parts of you that you cauterized on his behalf.

You thought he was the biggest, dumbest idiot in the entire world. You groan and roll your head back into the bricks of your building.

Apparently you were wrong, apparently that’s you.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You can’t tell if your excitement kills the way you hate yourself for shouting the question at him. You wish there was an answer, you hate this gray area more than anything else.

“Really?” He asks as he starts on his way over to you. The sun hangs low in the early evening and in its glow, his eyes downright glisten with the same feeling you have in your chest.

Hope.

“I mean, we have a lot to talk about, but yeah.” You bite your lip as he gets closer and finally when he gets close enough, you grab him by the front of his shirt, yank him down and smash your lips to his just long enough to get him out of your system.

“What was--” He chokes.

“If I didn’t do that, there’s no way I can have a rational discussion without thinking about how cute you look in dress clothes, now c’mon.”


	14. hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

14\. hell was the journey but it brought me heaven   
_and isn't it just so pretty to think  
all along there was some invisible string tying you to me _

On a Friday in late May, Vanitas makes a mad dash for the bus when the biggest hunk of shit car he has ever seen skids in front of him. Shards of rust flake off, the brakes squeak, the driver has to lean over to crank the passenger window down, but the driver smiles this full lipped smile at him, green eyes bright despite the early hour.

“Wanna ride to school in style?” Rueki bites her lips as Vanitas bites back a smirk.

“I’d have better luck taking the bus if I was worried about style.” He replies and she laughs, this big loud noise that is laughing with him and not at him and Vanitas’ heart melts. He loves her. And he’s told her so every day since they talked in her apartment. It’s approaching the end of his Junior year, a year that started with hangups for a sweet but careless boy, that ends in love with a mouthy but genuine girl. 

“I dunno, I think there’s something to be said about pulling up in a vintage car on the last day of my Senior year.” Rueki counters as Vanitas tugs open a creaky door and climbs into Rueki’s passenger seat. The car is decorated with cotton candy air fresheners that somehow don’t mask the scent of cigarette smoke long since leaked into the interior by the previous owner. He tosses his bag into the back seat, she leans over and kisses him and he meets her mouth with the type of familiarity that makes his heart skip one too many beats. 

“This thing isn’t vintage, it’s decrepit.” Vanitas tells her. She rolls her eyes, lets her foot off the brake and with a heave, the car starts rolling down the road. 

“Speaking of decrepit, is your old man still asking you about the whole having a job thing?” She asks, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Cid would totally hire you on.”

“If we worked and basically lived together, you’d get sick of me in a second.” He crosses his arms to his chest. She flashes him this pouty look and he uncrosses his arms to flick her on the forehead. “Stop checking me out and keep your eyes on the road.”

“Excuse you dude, I’m gonna check my boyfriend out as much as I want, have you seen how hot he is?” Rueki smirks but returns her eyes to the road. “I know you'd tell me if it was a big deal...but you've gotta understand why I get anxious on nights you don’t stay the night.”

He does know, because on nights that Xehanort is sober enough to realize that he’s sneaking out, Vanitas holds his breath and counts his heartbeats as he listens to footsteps upstairs, trying to anticipate his father stalking down to the basement to ream him before it happens.

The whole never getting a job after buying dress pants thing went over like a led balloon. At least Vanitas has spent enough years tensing up his abdomen before getting sucker punched in it, to know what and how to expect the sensation.

And at least Rueki always answers her phone on nights he can’t get out. At least her fingertips still trace so gently over the bruises on his abdomen, at least she tells him she loves him, at least there’s someone to make eye contact with all of the hurt and replace it with tenderness and affection that is just as adamant. 

They pull up in the school parking lot, Vanitas watches students filter in and makes a move for Rueki’s hand. She lifts an eyebrow at him.

“I’m really down to make out, but remember if we do, we’re going to get caught and yelled at by the security guard again.” Rueki grins and Vanitas just snorts.

“I just wanted to stop you before you got out and started acting like an idiot is all.” He replies. “Seniors do their walk at the start of 3rd hour.” He states like she isn’t distinctly aware of this.

“You gonna give me a kiss goodbye?” She asks.

“I’m going to seriously contemplate ditching the rest of the day to hang out with you.” He admits but she just laughs and shakes her head.

“Don’t give your freaking dad a reason to get pissed at you. I work from the time I get out until four anyway. Just come up to Hearts after school and hang out until I get out. I’ll be picking up a ton of extra hours now that I’m out of school. We can pick up some movies and snacks at the grocery store before we head home. Maybe get some food from that Thai place you like.” She squeezes his hand and heart in one little movement.

“I’ll tell the old man I’m staying with Rep for the weekend.” He offers.

“And I’m off until Monday morning so technically we don’t have to leave my place.” She bites her lips.

“So that means maybe I should grab condoms when I grab my clothes for the weekend…” His heart sputters just speaking aloud a thought that feels nerve wracking even now. But in the few weeks since reuniting, things picked up like they never stopped moving in the first place and he will admit easily that his favorite thing about Rueki is the way she loves at full force, in a way he’s only ever seen people hate before. 

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows shoot up but this delectable little smile starts to brighten up her features. “Only if you want to.” Damn, she is perfectly sweet, and undeniably his. He jerks her hand so she leans forward and presses her mouth to his.

“The way things have been going, you’re not getting me alone all weekend without going there.” He nips her lower lip with his teeth and the rush of confidence he gets when she sucks in a breath is overwhelming.

“We should get to class before I take advantage of you in this car.” Rueki’s breath trembles, she doesn’t even pull away and Vanitas grins wickedly. Oh yes, she’s undeniably his and this is exactly how he likes her.

So when she walks through the hall with the rest of her class, after she gets done hugging Kairi, Vanitas finds her, takes her face into his hands and kisses her so long and hard, her classmates complain as they walk around them.

“I love you.” He murmurs against her mouth.

“I love you too.” She replies, like she doesn’t give a damn if the rest of the world knows, like she prefers it for everyone to know that she is his and he is hers.

He thinks he likes this boyfriend thing.

She kisses him again. 

He likes it a lot. 

\--

Kairi Sinclair’s house is maybe even nicer than Sora’s and rather than lurk in the shadows, Vanitas is paraded around on Rueki’s arm. Rep is finally, finally Namine’s conversational priority as Riku and Sora lead a volleyball game in the pool. Xion is teaching Roxas how to do a trick on a skateboard. And Rueki lies between his legs, her head on his abdomen, a drink dangling from her hand, in a pool chair.

“You having fun?” Rueki’s eyes flick up to him as he plays with her hair. 

“I’m not into crowds.” He tells her. She hums. “Kairi has shit taste in music, and I would kick haf of the people here in the shin if they got too close.”

“Sooo…” Rueki trails off and he snorts, flicking the top of her head just to kiss it.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I like doing anything if I’m doing it with you.” He admits, tracing a finger down to the hollow of her neck. “Too bad Kairi doesn’t have a boat house we can sneak off to.”

“Have I made you a nymphomaniac?” She bats her lashes at him, he snorts and puts a hand over her face just to cover up her smugness.

“Maybe I just like new things.” He offers.

“No you don’t.” She laughs.

“Well maybe I just want that to start feeling familiar.” He breathes, mouth in her ear, removing his hand from her face to watch blush creep across her cheeks. 

“Kairi doesn’t have a boat house, but she does have a really nice RV parked in the garage.” Rueki traces her index finger across his hand.

“And you happen to know the code to the garage and how to get into this RV?” He asks, and she shrugs in this coy little way that clearly means yes. “What do you want in return, you little sneak?”

“Can’t I just want to sneak around with my boyfriend?” She bats her eyes, and oh yes, he really likes this boyfriend thing. 

“What do you want?” He repeats. She smirks.

“Would you be interested in maybe helping me show Sora and Riku how it’s done with volleyball when we get back?” She rocks her head back, eyes looking so doe like as they meet his.

“Why would you think I’m good at volleyball?” He asks.

“I don’t know that I am either, but I think collectively you and I are competitive enough to make this party kinda fun, huh?” She asks. He chuckles.

“You want competitive, you should ask Xion to bust out the Uno deck.” He tells her. Her eyes light up.

“Yeah?” She asks. He snorts.

“I’ll play cards with you and your friends as long as you guys don’t cry too hard when one of my friends kicks your ass.” He leers.

“Oooh, challenge accepted.” And with that, she leaps up, nabs his hand and leads him off to the garage.


	15. I never needed anything more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes look who forgot to post yesterday

15\. I never needed anything more   
_I can see us lost in the memory  
August slipped away like a moment in time _

Vanitas would gladly die in the rivulets of water that drip down Rueki's shoulders as she sits on a towel beside him. Though certainly he’d never voice that aloud, not even when Xion thoroughly kicks his ass at Uno. Kairi Sinclair laughs loudly and turns to sling her arm around Xion’s shoulder.

“My girlfriend’s better at playing games than your boyfriend.” Kairi winks, and though Vanitas still finds her annoying, Rueki seems to more than handle her.

“Yeah, his dick’s bigger though.” Case in point. Kairi has proved herself, at the very least, to be more hearty than Vanitas expected. Granted, he didn’t expect much about this summer to go the way it has.

“Kai!” Riku calls out and Kairi’s head pops up, huge eyes flashing toward the volleyball net where Roxas, Hayner, Riku, Sora and Olette have gathered. “We need another player!”

“Coming!” Kairi heaves a sigh and presses a kiss on Xion’s cheek. “You should come along.” She encourages Vanitas. “You can spike a ball like a mean sunuvagun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vanitas waves a hand, but otherwise shows zero interest. Kairi rolls her eyes. 

“Take him to the cleaners again for me, babe?” Kairi asks and Xion lights up so bright, the sun seems dim in comparison. 

“Promise.” Xion’s face flushes and she tucks her hair behind her ear. As Kairi scampers to the volleyball net, Xion starts to reshuffle the Uno cards.

“I do not get what you see in her.” Vanitas wrinkles his nose.

“I do, Kairi’s pretty.” Rep offers.

“And I’d really rather you continue to be blind to Kairi’s charms, if I’m being honest.” Rueki jabs Vanitas with her elbow.

“Yeah, you should be super threatened by your lesbian best friend.” He slings an arm around her. Rueki looks at him, all warm smiles and summer love and taps him on the nose.

“Maybe I just know a good thing when I’ve got it, I’m older, I’m wiser.” Oh, there she goes again. He’s never going to be able to unwrap himself from around her finger if she keeps talking to him like that, like he is her everything, like the world, and more importantly her world revolves around him. One of these days she’s going to push the hair out of her eyes and realize that he is the one who is lucky to have her, he’s the one who has never had a summer like this, spent in groups on the beach with people he wouldn’t have said two words to this time last year.

“A month into eighteen and you think you know everything.” Rep teases. “Not to mention you two are nauseating.” He makes a gagging face. So Rueki kisses Vanitas just to make Rep ‘boo’ loudly. 

“Well I, on the other hand, am so happy you and Kairi are together.” Rueki announces, as she looks at Xion. “She’s never seemed so much like herself.”

“I hope she never thinks she has to be anything other than herself.” Xion casts a dreamy gaze in the direction of her newly minted girlfriend, who spikes a volleyball over the net. “She’s always so...warm, and encouraging, she makes me feel strong. Plus, we both know where things stand with each other’s parents, it’s nice to not feel obligated…”

Rueki’s eyes flick up to Vanitas. He thinks that nice might be an understatement, but they invented the feeling. He reaches over to brush hair off of her forehead, watching the sun redden her skin. Vanitas gets dark and Rueki gets flakey and sunburnt but is notoriously forgetful about reapplying sunscreen. 

“You’re going to fry.” He reminds her. 

“I always fry.” Rueki says. Vanitas snorts, a soft little sound. 

“Come on.” He rises. “Give us a couple minutes?” He asks Xion who nods, chewing her lip.

“I’ll see if Pence wants to play.” Xion replies. “Do you wanna ask Namine?”

“No.” Rep pouts as he turns to stare at the blonde, curled beneath an umbrella, sketching not far from where her boyfriend plays volleyball. “She looks like she’s having fun drawing.”

“Well, suit yourself.” Xion shrugs, and with that, she heads over to Pence, who has been trying consistently to convince her to join the Quiz Bowl team, which Vexen actually seems likely to okay her joining.

Where Junior year felt like the tale of the underdog, Vanitas rides a whole different high with his Senior year right around the corner. 

With fingers laced together, Vanitas leads Rueki back to the beach blanket they laid out at the start of the day, beside a basket full of water, snacks and sunscreen. Rueki flops down onto the blanket and Vanitas climbs down onto her hips, sitting back on his knees as he squirts sunscreen out of the tube and onto his palm. He plops it right on her back and starts to work it into her skin. He leans down, mouth brushing her ear.

“How much of you do you think I can touch before one of your friends try to stop me?” He slips his hands beneath the straps of her bikini, smearing sunscreen across all of her skin.

“Considering we’re on a public beach, I don’t think my friends are who you have to worry about.” Rueki giggles. “It’ll be really easy to get ourselves into some more situations like this when you turn eighteen and can just run away from your dad’s and come live with me up at school.”

She’s unrelenting in that suggestion and every time she offers it, Vanitas forgets the reasons he’s supposed to say no.

“Daybreak Town is an hour and a half away.” He murmurs. 

“Guess you’ll join the commuters club early.” He can hear the smirk in her voice, three hours on a bus doesn’t seem bad at all when he considers sharing a home with her, a home he won’t need to sneak over to when and only when Xehanort is thoroughly passed out. It’s nothing shy of a miracle that he hasn’t been caught more than the one time. “Or you can start school up in Daybreak Town. Or go online.”

“I don’t know how to enroll myself in any of that.” He reminds her, like they haven’t gone through this before, like this isn’t the most well rehearsed game they’ve ever played.

“I do.” She replies. “I told you.”

“And I told you, you’re already planning to work up there, you’re gonna blow through the money from your parents house in a semester if you have to feed me.” Because when Xehanort doesn’t, sure, Rueki does, but that is one of the old man’s only saving graces, he keeps Vanitas fed. What a savior. “I’d have to leave everyone.”

“So then I’ll just commute for a year, I still have time to cancel my living situation up in Daybreak Town, I’ll get the money back and use it for another year worth of rent, I can compress my classes into as few days as possible, see if I can do any online, nothing is set in stone, Van, I can hang out here until you graduate.” 

His hands still as they hit where the curve of her waist meets the towel. 

“Your apartment here leaks, is a quarter of the square footage you’ll have up in Daybreak Town and it still doesn’t change that it’s a three hour trip on the bus altogether.” He nudges her waist so that she flips over, onto her back and then he leans down to kiss her. She holds his eye contact as they part, the intensity of it all is more than his heart will allow passage. “I will break up with you if you try to ghost a scholarship and stay in a shitty apartment because of me.”

“I know…” She admits. “But I keep thinking one of these days, if I just keep bringing it up, you’ll come with me and then I won’t have to spend the time I should be studying, worrying about you.”

“If you start acting like you pity me, I’m fully going to lose it.” He warns her. She links her arms around his neck. 

“I don’t pity you. I love you, I’m scared to go somewhere and leave you with someone who broke your arm and your nose and leaves you with bruises and cuts any chance he gets.” She’s chewing on her lips, and while it isn’t inherently sexy right now, Vanitas is still more caught up in the movement than he cares to admit.

“Yeah, that’s gonna be shitty.” Because he knows anyone else would want him to sugarcoat it, but she wouldn’t and he wouldn’t know how to even if she begged him to. “You’re gonna come get me on Fridays.” He reminds her, and it will be risky and it will very much depend on Xehanort being blackout drunk all weekend--which is very likely but not foolproof--but will be so very worth it. 

“I’ll drop you off every Monday morning, we’ll talk on the phone or video call every night.” She assures him, tracing fingers across the back of his neck, making him shiver despite the heat. “And you’re going to get your ass into Daybreak University, and next year--”

“I’m going to move in and that entire school is going to realize who you belong to.” He shifts his hands beneath her waist and pulls her into him just to hear Rep yelling at them to stop being gross and come play Uno.

“Why does time always go by so fast when I’m with you?” She asks. He doesn’t know the answer, but if he did, he’d will time into reverse and live in this moment with her even as it is passing. 

\--

The apartment in Daybreak Town looks like something out of a movie set, and even with the heaviest of Rueki’s belongings in the box in Vanitas’ hands, he marvels at it.

“Incoming.” Rueki calls from behind him, he dips out of the way and she sets a box of clothes down on the ground before shutting the door behind them. Vanitas sets his box down and watches Rueki all but wilt in the doorway. “I hate moving.”

“I never have.” He admits, and she chews her lip.

“Well at least next time you do, it’ll be into here.” She bats her lashes and makes plans for such a distant future like she’s got the capability to promise life eternal. What does it say about him that he truly, consistently, believes that look in her eye and the determination she carries in her shoulders? “Come here.” Like she can’t move, but Vanitas follows orders from her and only her, and dives in, wrapping his arms between her waist and the door, pressing his lips down onto her head. “Would you judge me if I bought you plane tickets if it snows on one of our weekends?”

“Yeah.” He tells her, but chuckles into her hair. “I’m not saying don’t do it, but I will judge you. Stop being weird about the snow, it’s seriously still August, and this place is a thousand degrees.” He parts from her to head over the thermostat. She sets a hand on her hip.

“Can’t take the heat?” She teases as he turns on the air conditioning. 

“You’re going to have a lot of distractions up at this big school. Maybe I want to work up a sweat a different way so I make sure you don’t forget me.” His eyes flash like a bolt of lightning, he hears her gasp from across the room.

And then, without caring about the fact that her mattress is leaned against a wall in the living room, she launches herself straight at him.


	16. and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad

16\. and my words shoot to kill when I’m mad  
 _i’ve been having a hard time adjusting  
I had the shiniest wheels now they’re rusting _

7pm on Tuesdays is time for video calls.

With a job as a busser at Hearts, Vanitas finds ways to kill as much free time as possible outside of the house. Rueki has class until 5 on Tuesdays and between the bus ride back to her apartment, her own job and her homework, they sneak time in any chance they get. Even if it’s only for an hour, at 7, on a Tuesday that has sucked shit. 

Xehanort is mostly sober when Vanitas gets in from Hearts. Mostly sober is dangerous, because mostly sober means on the way towards drunk. Vanitas doesn’t say a word when he get in, just heads to the pantry, grabs a bag of chips and starts toward the basement.

“They don’t feed you at that job of yours?” Xehanort takes a drag from a cigarette that instantly stinks up the entire place. Vanitas wrinkles his nose as his heart beat changes to a violent staccato. If Xehanort is smoking in the house, Vanitas knows well enough by now to know this means he’s had a bad day that he’s burning to take out on someone. Vanitas puts the chips back, it’s not a big deal, he tells himself, Xehanort will be gone in the morning, he can eat breakfast and hoard a bunch of nonperishables in his backpack, just in case the old man gets on a kick like this again. 

Vanitas has gotten too laid back, he knows better, he knows better, shit.

“Get over here.” Xehanort’s able to form a real sentence, and that turn Vanitas’ legs into complete glue, but the forsaken trauma response kicks in and drags his legs, as though through a swamp, to the edge of the couch where Xehanort sits. The old man grabs him by the wrist and jerks him forward, looking over his hands. “Awfully clean for someone who has a job.”

“They make this thing called soap, it’s great. Maybe you should use it sometime, pops.” Vanitas knows very well the cigarette is going to be ashed into the skin of his wrist, but it doesn’t make it any better and it doesn’t make him regret the words that left his mouth. Not when he could speak something divine and be met with the same response. He tries to jerk his arm away, but Xehanort grips him tighter, fingers leaving bruises in his skin. 

“Don’t get smart, boy.” Xehanort orders.

“How am I getting into college if I’m not supposed to get smart?” Vanitas finally gets his arm free and though he wants right away to address the wound, he knows better. Knows he’ll earn a second wound if he looks too pathetic. 

“Tch.” Xehanort hisses. “With your grades, you’re not going anywhere. You really think we can afford that? Your degenerate mother left you with not a damn cent when she killed herself.”

Vanitas’ fists feel like led and he wants to pummel them into the old man’s face.

“Good talk.” Vanitas’ fingernails bite into his palms, Rueki’s words coming out of his mouth are the only thing that keeps him any degree of stable. “I’ve got homework to do.”

Xehanort doesn’t say anything else, but not for the first time, Vanitas gets to the other side of his bedroom door and wishes there was a lock on it, wishes there was something he could use to barricade it that wouldn’t go tumbling straight down the stairs if Xehanort were to kick the door hard enough.

Clumsily, he reaches for his phone in his pocket, finding and dialing Rueki’s contact before even making it all the way down the stairs. Her phone rings four times then goes to a generic voicemail. 

She’s never not answered his call before. He looks into their text messages, has one of her saying that she’s home from school around 5:30, and nothing. It’s 7pm exactly and while Rueki is a lot of annoying things, her punctuality is typically not annoying. 

**[ Vanitas ]** Answer your phone

Three minutes pass, he calls again, gets her voicemail then texts her again.

**[ Vanitas ]** The old man is on one, could you seriously just call me?

Ten minutes pass and she still hasn’t called him and he’s playing through scenarios where she got kidnapped just outside of her apartment as he hears the old man’s footsteps grow heavier and angrier above him. He hears strings of curses and wonders how long he has before the string of curses come his way. He could go running out the window, it wouldn’t be hard, but where would he go? Where would he stay long enough for Xehanort to pass out and forget whatever it is about Vanitas’ existence that pisses him so thoroughly off? What did he do before Rueki again?

Things will be worse if he tries to sneak in when the old man is still conscious…

**[ Vanitas ]** What the hell is your problem?

It’s almost 8 by time Vanitas gets a call, from a frantic, exhausted looking Rueki. Her face shows up through the video call, the light in her apartment is dim and yellow and it makes her look sallow and drawn out.

“Are you okay?” She asks, before even attempting to make an excuse that he’s already committed to doubting anyway. He wants to hurl a thousand confessions her way, when his bedroom door gets thrown open.

“Who the hell are you talking to at this hour?” Xehanort demands, and Vanitas has no idea if or how he could possibly have heard the one sentence Rueki uttered, but he doesn’t chance anything. He ends the call and sticks the phone in the crack between his mattress and the wall.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Vanitas sneers. “I already told you, I’mdoing homework.”

“Oh yeah? On your phone?” Xehanort comes tripping over his own feet, down the stairs, barely functional.

“I was checking with Rep to make sure we didn’t have any homework in math, get over yourself.” And with that, he shoves the phone further into the crack, so far it’s going to be a pain in the ass for him to get, but that means that surely Xehanort won’t be able to reach it. 

“Pull the damn thing out then, prove it.” Xehanort orders as he gets to the edge of the stairs, the shadows in the basement casting a ghoulish, horrifying light over him. Vanitas fists his fitted sheet and prays his heart stays quiet. 

“I don’t have to prove to you I’m doing homework, get on the damn computer and look at my grades, I’m acing everything, what does it matter?” He’s acing everything because Rueki is helping him through classes she took last year, but that shouldn’t matter to Xehanort because it won’t matter in the grand scheme of anything. He’s inking by until he can get the hell out of dodge and be at Daybreak University with her next year.

“Get!” Xehanort points at the floor in front of him, and Vanitas knows this means he no longer has the competency to speak like a normal human being. He clutches the bed tighter but his body demands he move when every bit of him tells him to stay still.

He stands right at the foot of the bed, right in front of Xehanort who puts him into the matress, twists his arm behind his back at such an angle, that Vanitas literally bites his sheets to keep from crying out, to keep from moving. Because moving was his problem last time, he’s not going to spend another couple of months in a cast, he goes limp, ignoring the tears that sting his eyes when all he wants to do is fight back.

“Who were you on the phone with?” Xehanort demands, but Vanitas won’t answer that it was his girlfriend, not at all. That might be worse.

“You’re out of your mind.” Because that will go over better than ‘you’re drunk, piss off’. Using his arm as leverage, Xehanort slams Vanitas into the mattress, which doesn’t hurt necessarily, but makes him feel as though he might drown in humiliation. He’d take the pain over that any day.

“You’ll see how out of my mind I am when I cut off your service. You’re a big man now, you’ve got a job, how about you feed yourself and pay your own damn phone bill.” Xehanort drops him then and there and heads up the stairs, slamming the door so hard Vanitas fears it might fall off the hinges. And then he’d have nothing, no escape, no privacy, nowhere to hide away and jam his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming, to keep from crying.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears a knock on his window. His heart spasms, but he goes sputtering over to it to see Rueki in the last of the evening light. Vanitas looks back up to the basement door, which is still closed. In his adrenalized state, he cannot recall if he’s heard Xehanort’s footsteps, but he chances it and cracks the window anyway.

“You can’t be here!” He whisper shouts.

“Neither can you, pack a bag for the week, I’ll drive you to school.” She whispers back. 

He’s about to fight with her, tell her they had this argument already, tell her that she can’t afford to feed him, tell her that she shouldn’t have drove out here in the first place, but that she really shouldn’t volunteer to do it all week.

He wants to tell her a lot of things, but most of all, he wants to go with her. So he packs a bag for the week, grabs his phone, which might or might not still have service, from the crack of his bed and climbs right out the window, not breathing properly until they’re in her car, just down the block--she knows better than to park in the driveway-- and take off into the night. He focuses on the headlights as they cut through the dark, the sound of her music playing loud enough to drown out his thoughts, of her fingers laced through his.

He surely doesn’t focus on the heat of the tears as they roll down his cheeks. He won’t even acknowledge them until Rueki starts to kiss them away in the safety of her bed. 

\--

Xehanort blows up Vanitas’ phone, which apparently still has service and Vanitas gives him the thinnest excuses he can crank out as Rueki drives him dutifully, to and from school every day that week. Thursday, she curses under her breath and he questions her and she just tells him that she’s blowing through a lot of gas, but it’s not a big deal because she can either pick up extra shifts at her new job or see if Cid will let her hop on a few days a week while she drives him all over the place.

“Really, I don’t have a ton of homework this semester. My English class basically consists of everything I did last year, it’s not a big deal if I have to reuse an essay or something.” She shrugs, as she climbs back into the car.

“I’m going to run out of excuses for not being home before I turn eighteen.” Vanitas just mutters. “You should just let me stay home tonight.”

“I’m going to pick you up for the weekend tomorrow, one extra trip isn’t a big deal.” She swears.

“It’s three extra hours in the car.” He gripes, crossing his arms to his chest. “And what, half a tank of gas?”

“Legitimately, I will suck your dick so many times tonight if I can make you just stop protesting this.” She pleads. 

“And besides, you should just let me stay here for the weekend, you’ve already--”

“Can we stop acting like this isn’t something I want to do?” She asks.

“We could if I thought you were sane enough to actually make the right choices about how to spend your money.” He accuses. She groans, leans over and kisses him on the lips as they pull up into the high school parking lot.

“Would it make you feel better if I cut class today to go pick up shifts at Hearts? Won’t hurt my gas tank, and it’s literally only my Communications class, which I would have to be a first class idiot to fail.” She offers.

“It wouldn’t.” He mumbles. “You’re literally giving up your life because mine is shitty.”

“I’m going to be at Daybreak University for four years, please stop acting like that’s my life when I want to be with you for longer than that.” Oh hell. She can’t help herself and Vanitas is such mush when she gets serious in ways that only sound good because they’re coming from her lips.

God help them both when he turns eighteen, she’s barely going to have to toss a comment about marriage and suddenly he’s going to be the high schooler with a wife, and the worst part is, he doesn’t even give a damn.

How is she so capable of doing that? Making forever seem like it’s such a short period of time when it’s spent in her embrace? 

“Fine, but we’ve gotta stay in my room tonight, I’ll let you in the back window, but the old man is going to become a complete nightmare if I don’t make an appearance.” He concedes, she kisses him again, he’s never been so content to be a prisoner to someone’s love.

“And I don’t have Friday classes…” She traces her fingers down his jaw. “Oh, when you get out of school tomorrow, we should head over to this bar. We won’t be able to drink, but a friend of mine is in a band that’s playing there. You’d like their sound, it’s very your vibe.” 

“Already trying to replace me?” He plays it off like a joke, but she rolls her eyes like the possibility doesn’t even seem real. 

“You know, people don’t normally make friends with the intent to sleep with them.” She says, as though she is patiently explaining something mundane to a toddler.

He doesn’t tell her that while her intentions might be pure, he doesn’t trust the ideology of anyone who could get lost in the sway of her hips the way he does. Scratch that, he just doesn’t trust anyone. Because he can’t lose the girl that sneaks into his window that night, drops him off and picks him up from school that Friday, and takes off, with one hand in his and the other on the wheel, toward Daybreak Town. 

\--

On the plus side, the night life in Daybreak Town is a lot cooler than it is in Radiant Garden. Vanitas isn’t the only one in the bar with messy hair and a leather jacket, and Rueki isn’t the only girl with tired eyes and a nice ass, but when she tugs his sleeve through the crowd, ‘x’s on their hands, he convinces himself that all sets of eyes are on her and she’s just to oblivious, still so blissed out in their honeymoon phase to realize how much she could have without him holding her back. Even if it’s just someone old enough to buy her a drink.

When they get up to where the band is playing, he watches a group of disheveled misfit types rock out. Some guy with a mullet-mohawk goes ham on the bass, a blue haired guy with a grizzly scar on his face beats on the drums, a skinny girl with dark hair and eyes that match Vanitas’ screams into the microphone and a massive, lithe redhead plays the guitar with a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

This might be the only bar in the entire universe that still lets people smoke inside, but the bartender is checking ID’s for drinks. What horse shit, if he’s going to have to deal with the place reeking like this, he’d die for a drink. 

Rueki’s thumb brushes over the recent cigarette burn, on the mend, beneath the wrist of his jacket. Like she knows, of course she knows.

The crowd seems to be feeling the band, Rueki starts bouncing on her toes, shaking her hips just a little, and Vanitas just hopes against all hope that it’s the skinny girl or the mohawk guy that Rueki is friends with. Those two, he could take in a fight for her if it came down to it. On a break in between songs, Rueki throws her arms around Vanitas’ shoulders and brings them chest to chest.

“What do you think?” She calls over the noise in the bar.

“I think it’s loud in here and there are a lot of people.” Is his unsatisfying response. Rueki doesn’t seem to expect any less from him. 

“They’ve been getting pretty popular, this place is usually dead up until eleven on Friday nights.” Rueki explains.

“This is where you’re at on Friday nights?” He looks around at the faces and suddenly wonders how famous Rueki is here, if the eyes on her are glued to the way she dances every weekend. Vanitas’ always are. 

“Sometimes.” She admits. “Axel’s a cool guy, I don’t mind coming up and supporting them.”

“Which one’s Axel?” Please be the mohawk guy, please be the mohawk guy.

“The redhead playing guitar. He’s in my communications and math classes, actually sent me over the homework when I told him I was missing class to stay with you.” She explains.

“What, so he knows you came to hang out with your boyfriend and his shitty dad?” Vanitas snaps, but Rueki just holds onto him a little tighter, able to weather the storm in ways he almost wishes she wouldn’t. It would be so easy to shake her off, if he could just get her to release him it would at least be...familiar. 

“He knows I wanted to spend the night with my boyfriend and didn’t feel like making the drive back, I already told you I’m not telling anyone your secrets…” She bites her lips. “What’s with you? Do you wanna leave?”

“Why do you wanna be here?” He asks.

“Because my friend’s in a cool band that I thought you would like, plus I know they’ve got a slow song or too and I still haven’t gotten to dance with you.” She says. “Well, not outside of drama class.”

The band comes back and plays one of those slow songs, so Vanitas just holds Rueki tight through them, trying so hard not to cast angry glances up at Axel. Trying so hard to be the person who can just enjoy this with her and not rip her away from her life because of insecurities that he doesn’t want to shoulder in the first place. 

The band finishes their set and starts to head off the stage when Rueki stops dancing and Vanitas senses the shift in her energy.

“There’s probably gonna be a party over at Demyx’s place. I guess his girlfriend’s rich, they’ve got a nice place. Wanna meet everyone?” Rueki leans on her toes and squeezes his shoulders and Vanitas pointedly does not want to go, but he knows that she wants to and more than anything he wants to meet Axel and be given a concrete reason not to worry.

Instead, Rueki guides him toward a back room that he never would’ve known existed had she not expertly guided him. When they make their way through, the band is loading up their equipment and Axel is even taller in person. At least a head taller than Vanitas, who is already several inches taller than Rueki. 

“Well look at that, you made it after all, Rueks.” Axel flashes Rueki the type of grin that even does things for Vanitas. Rueki smirks, all playful banter and coyness. All charisma and spark in her eyes. The hand not laced through Vanitas’s rests on her hips and somehow in the dark of the room, Vanitas becomes a prop. “This the infamous boyfriend?” 

“Vani, this is Skuld, Saix, Demyx and Axel. Guys, this is Vanitas.” Rueki waves a hand toward the group who look so much taller and so much older and so unfamiliar he cannot take it. 

“Vani.” Axel smirks a little and oh that does it.

“Vanitas.” Vanitas corrects, or rather growls, eyes narrowing into slits. Rueki’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.

“So I take it this one bites?” Axel cackles.

“Don’t mind him.” Saix tells Vanitas. “He thinks he’s a lot funnier than he is.”

“Dick.” Axel laughs. “Alright Vanitas, nice to meet you, Rueks over here has nothing but good things to say about you.” 

“Rueks?” Vanitas asks, in a low voice, feeling dreadfully like he’s missed out on some sort of delightful, inside joke.

“Like Saix said, Axel thinks he’s funny. He’s also terrible at nicknames.” Rueki smiles even huger at Axel though, who cards a hand through his hair.

“All that attitude and who’s gonna buy you booze, sweetheart?” Axel swoops down, leering right at Rueki in the most annoyingly theatrical way a human being can. 

“You, still. You wouldn’t wanna be my friend if I wasn’t at least as obnoxious as you.” Rueki pokes him in the chest and shit, even watching like this it’s very clear that Axel, despite being as thin as a rail, is solid to boot. Dammit. Why did Vanitas not beg her not to make attractive friends? And even if Axel wasn't painfully good looking, could she have at least chosen someone that she doesn’t ooze chemistry with? That she doesn’t look at like that?

“Now she’s not wrong there.” Skuld grabs some equipment up into her arms and nods to another, much easier to notice door behind her. “You guys coming over to Larxene’s?” 

“As long as the invitation is open.” Rueki nods.

“For you, always.” Demyx laughs. “Don’t know how you won her over, it took me years.”

“I’m exactly the same level of bitch as her, we as women all need friends on that level.” Rueki offers and they all laugh, but no Vanitas, not at all. 

\--

The house that they ride to, in the back of the band’s shitty van, is massive, Vanitas will attest to that. It’s borderline a palace.

“Larxene’s a model. Like an actual runway model.” Skuld, the least insufferable of the band, explains to Vanitas as Rueki leans over toward the driver’s seat to tease Axel about something that Vanitas is trying very hard to pretend he doesn’t care about.

“Why are you dating her then?” Vanitas lifts an eyebrow and looks at Demyx, who just laughs, grinning lazily. 

“Uh, rude.” Skuld says flatly, with very little patience for anyone apparently. 

“Nah, he’s right. We used to be friends when we were kids, it took me this long to convince her that I wasn’t trash. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person with rougher edges than hers.” Demyx shrugs.

“Well what’s love without a little danger?” Rueki leans back over and bats her eyes. Vanitas’ face flushes, and inside him a thousand protests bubble up, that he would never hurt her, that he would never jeopardize her, but everyone laughs and the street lights fade out on the drive in time with Vanitas’ heart. “Sorry, dumb joke. There’s this girl in our communications class who was trying to convince everyone that real love should...ugh, it’s stupid. It’s actually not even funny, but the way she said it was so dumb that--”

“Yeah, great.” Vaitas snaps, crossing his arms to his chest. The van pulls to a stop, Everyone starts to get out and before Rueki can even make a move for him, Vanitas leaps out, cutting ahead of the others toward a house he doesn’t know. 

“Van!” Rueki calls out from behind him, he doesn’t acknowledge her. 

Instead, he disappears, the second he gets into the place, into a crowd full of the same grungy misfit look that Rueki, the damn tourist, latches onto like she knows--

She does know real emotion, so why is she just sitting there letting him feel this way, how dare she not learn to read his mind?

There’s beer out in cups by a keg, Vanitas grabs one and cuts even further away, up a staircase, into a room that looks like some sort of massive library. He sinks into a couch, takes a long drink and wills himself to disappear.

The door opens up, when he looks up, green eyes stare back at him.

“Go play with your friends.” Vanitas demands.

“Don’t be an asshole.” She tells him flatly. “You’re acting like a jealous douche.”

“And you’re acting like you don’t give a damn if I disappear or not. You’re not even here for me, you’re here cuz I embarrassed you around your friends and you wanna tell me off.” He accuses.

“Um yeah, because I have spent the past two months telling them about how damn cool my boyfriend is, and then suddenly you wanna come and make a first impression that you’re just a jerk.” She replies. “So you can either tell me what’s bugging you and we can talk about it and have fun with people that I legitimately think you’ll like, or you can sit up here and pout. All on you, man.”

“By all means, go back to your friends. We all know why they waste their time with you.” He sneers. Her face downright burns. 

“You can take that back right now, or I’ll call you a cab back to Radiant Garden.” Her voice dips low and he takes it as a challenge.

“Call the damn cab then!” He throws his hands up. She stands in the doorway, tinkering with her phone. She plays with it for a second and then looks up at him.

“They’ll be here in two minutes.” She looks at him like she did that time she asked him to leave his key, with eyes that grow red and glossy, and then when she holds his stare too long, she turns away.

“Bye.” He gets up off the couch and strides right past her. 

The cab ride takes somehow even longer than when Rueki carts him to and from Radiant Garden, when he gets home, Xehanort kicks him into the wall for being out too late, and then promptly passes out on the ground. With a hole in the drywall in the shape of him, Vanitas gets into the shower and washes the reeking smoke of the bar off of himself. 

He gets into the shower and ignores the incessant amount of phone calls that Rueki isn’t making.


	17. you turned into your worst fears

17\. you turned into your worst fears  
_cursing my name  
wishing I stayed _

**[ Rueki ]** You’re really not even going to text me?

Vanitas looks at his phone the following Monday on the bus ride to school, with tired eyes and a back that hurts almost enough that he can ignore the pain in his heart. 

**[ Vanitas ]** You didn’t even call me

 **[ Vanitas ]** Was your party awesome?

 **[ Vanitas ]** Hope you had fun with all of your new friends

 **[ Rueki ]** You know you do a pretty good job of conveying sarcasm through text, but I’d actually forgive you if you would just apologize for hurting my feelings.

 **[ Vanitas ]** You want me to apologize after you spent a night ignoring me?

 **[ Rueki ]** WE DANCED!!!! I introduced you to my friends, you literally took off and I tried to talk to you and you said the meanest thing you could think to say to me, IDK WTF you want from me, dude, I am trying and you HURT ME!!!!

 **[ Vanitas ]** I wanted you to not ignore me and then go get drunk with your shitty friends the second you called me a cab!

 **[ Rueki ]** Wow, fuck me for trying to have fun after you made me feel like shit, next time I’ll do what I did when you KISSED YOUR EX, I’ll bawl my eyes out for at least a couple weeks before I do anything. 

**[ Rueki ]** You keep hurting people and they get used to it, they get over it, they stop caring.

 **[ Vanitas ]** So you don’t care about me?

 **[ Rueki ]** Literally never said that, you make me homicidal sometimes.

 **[ Rueki ]** I love you, but I don’t know wtf to do when you won’t even talk to me, Vani.

 **[ Vanitas ]** I told you that I didn’t want to go see your friend’s shitty band, maybe if you actually paid attention you would know.

 **[ Rueki ]** What did you want? For us to just ignore everyone else?

Pointedly yes, Vanitas did and does and why is it so hard to want the person that matters most to him to revolve around him with the same intensity he does her? Isn’t she the one who loves so unapologetically? 

**[ Vanitas ]** What I want is for you to leave me alone.

 **[ Rueki ]**...are you breaking up with me?

 **[ Vanitas ]** No!

 **[ Vanitas ]**...shit, can we just talk later?

How does she love him when he’s such a mess? How can she be so compelled to stay with someone who lashes out at her every step of the way? How can he not sit there and think about how much better off she would just be if…

Axel’s eyes were even greener than hers.

Axel probably isn’t so broken that he spills over and drowns everything he loves. 

**[ Rueki ]** Yeah, you wanna video call when you’re out of school?

 **[ Vanitas ]** Yeah...love you.

 **[ Rueki ]** I love you too Van, I just don’t feel good about this weekend.

 **[ Vanitas ]** Yeah.

Him either, not at all.

Eagerly, the second Vanitas gets home, he shoots Rueki a video call, one that she answers right away.

Instantly his stomach drops.

From the view of her laptop on her desk, he sees Axel. In her room, not doing a single scandalous thing, but that’s just the point. That’s the point of it all. This is how it starts, this is how Rueki lets go of the things that make Vanitas who he is, this is how she stops putting up with him, this is how she falls out of love with him. Little by little, over the very same quirks that made her fall in love with him in the first place. 

“Okay, thanks!” Rueki waves Axel out as he leaves her room and then she turns to Vanitas, eyes dreamy--but he can’t tell if it’s for him or for Axel and the lack of clarity just finds ways to twist and turn inside of him. “Hey babe, sorry, we were just trying to figure out some homework. Cuz that sucks even worse in college.” She laughs so blithely, like nothing is a big deal, like the whole world isn’t shattered glass beneath him. 

“Oh, yeah.” Vanitas chokes out and makes it a show to look at the sheets. “You’re not gonna talk to me with him here are you?”

“No, he left, he’s got a class to head to, like I said, we were just trying to decipher the homework.” She repeats it and it sounds so real, and she’s always so obnoxiously honest, so why does he feel like he can’t trust a single thing she’s saying ever again? So desperately, he wants to reverse the hands of time and take them back to when things were simple, when he was watching her dance to Christmas music or lathering her in sunscreen on the beach. “So...where do you want to start?”

Nowhere, everywhere, so caught between everything; he can’t do this and needs to in tandem and this overwhelms him in new ways, terrible ways. He has to do anything he can to keep her...But he can see it, even in the dreamy way she looks at him, cheek pressed into her palm, eyes more tired than he’s ever seen them before, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. He wants to do anything he can to keep her, but he knows how to keep his heart guarded in ways she cannot even fathom.

Vanitas hates new things. Hates them. And hates her for forcing him into them.

“Nevermind, this is dumb.” He murmurs. She inclines an eyebrow.

“Talking about our issues is dumb?” She asks incredulously. 

“No, this whole relationship is dumb.” He spits the words out of his mouth, begging them to leave with the speed and trajectory of bullets so they cut hot and deep and he can be rid of their explosion before it destroys him entirely. 

“Okay, dick.” She rolls her eyes, like he doesn’t even phase her, like the hot knife of his words doesn't even cut. “Do you want me to come pick you up and we'll talk about this in person, because I will.” And he does, and he wants her to more than anything else in the world. But the temporary relief of being in her arms will be so easily forgotten when he considers what it will feel like as she starts letting go of him, as she slowly, wistfully falls in love with Axel. As she sheds the weight of abusive fathers and phone calls that keep them up all night and working extra hours to pay for the gas to come and get him every weekend and any time he needs her. How long did he really expect this to last? How long did he really expect her to carry the weight that he drags with him everywhere and anywhere he goes, just by existing? Did he think his fantasies would come true and it would last until he turned eighteen, at which point he’d go live with her and take the bus several hours a day to and from school, up to her apartment, where they’d live in sin until he could hope against all hope he’d get accepted into Daybreak University too? It’s not like he has her grades to earn him a scholarship, it’s not like he’s got the money lying around somewhere from his dead junkie mother or his drunk bastard father. Where did he really think he could make a home anywhere but in the pits he’s been bred in? The stint in the light was nice, but where could someone like him expect to belong to, other than the dark?

“I don’t want you to do anything, I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He grumbles, voice so low he almost blocks himself from hearing it altogether, but she doesn’t, of course she doesn’t. 

“Okay, you don’t sound like yourself, I’m coming to get you.” She starts to rise from the desk.

“Stop!” He snaps, slamming a hand down into his mattress. She’s not going to make this easy, he doesn’t expect her to, but he also doesn’t expect the immediate strain on his heart or the desperation that she drive fast and save him from his own self sabotaging thought patterns. “You’re not going anywhere near me because I don’t want to be with you, are you deaf?” 

“Yeah, well two seconds ago we were gonna figure things out.” She retorts. “What is your deal, why are you doing this?”

“Because I don’t love you anymore.” The lies are a noose around his neck, he’s wheezing on them and has never wanted to die more than while hanging from them. 

“Why would you have said you did then?” She asks, he watches tears well up in her eyes. As they redden, they’ve never looked greener. She’s never felt more like home than when he’s walking out the front door. 

“Because I didn’t want to do this now, I was going to wait until you came here next and do it in person, but you just don’t know when to take a hint.” It’s impressive, he thinks, the way this kind of hate can spew from him so easily, so freely, under such improvised pretenses. But maybe it isn’t. Maybe all he’s ever been made to do is break things that don’t know better than to be fragile around him.

“Is it because I’m not around enough? Because Vani, you turn eighteen in two weeks, you can come live with me after that and--”

“And what, we can sit around and play house? I can do school online? We can pretend that this isn’t the most screwed up situation and you’re not just shacking up with me cuz you feel sorry for me?” He spits and she groans, carding a hand through her hair.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, I love you, I want to have a life with you, I want you to live somewhere with someone who loves you, not someone who kicks the shit out of you when they’ve had a bad day!” She pleads. “What brought on this? What happened? What changed?”

Everything. Nothing. Vanitas doesn’t know, but he can’t scrub clean from his mind the way she smiled at Axel, the look in her eyes when they banter, the way the phrase ‘chemistry’ is defined by the sparks that fly between the two of them, sparks he could only watch manifest once. What’s changed is he cannot watch someone he loves more than anything in the entire world fall slowly but surely in love with someone else as Vanitas himself becomes more and more of a hindrance every single day. She can’t love someone like him, someone who keeps her anchored firmly to the ground. 

“I slept with Ventus.” There, he thinks, it is. The lie that breaks her clean in two, the words that seal the deal. Where she was hollow before, she’s deceased now, he watches the life completely leave her eyes, the flushed color drain from her cheeks. She cries, but he doesn’t even think she’s aware of the tears he watches fall down her cheeks. She’s going to look at him like that forever and he’s never going to be able wipe that image clean either and he just can’t-- “And I tell you what, he was a lot better than you.”

She wipes her face, draws in a breath.

“Okay.” She just says and for one miserable, aching--pleading--moment Vanitas thinks she’ll forgive even this. But instead she straightens herself out. “Um, delete my number, and if you ever see me again, don’t even say hello.”

She hangs up the call, Vanitas stares at his own face in a pitch black screen and hates it.

There’s supposed to be something dignified in loving something and letting it go.

But Vanitas feels nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yes a little bit of the old school Sam coming out here, deciding that happy endings aren't punk. Anyhow, wow thanks for being down for this ride with me! If you enjoyed Rueki and Vanitas and want to further explore their relationship, 'The Many Adventures of Rueki and Vanitas ' will be coming May 15th! But for that one you'll definitely want to read through the Eternal Flame series first!


End file.
